Love and Remembrance
by Stakeaclaim
Summary: Angel is losing everything that meant anything to him. The rest of the team attempt to hold it it together. Meanwhile, Spike is struggling with his new soul and trying to find his place in the world as old animosities are put to rest. Generally pg except
1. Remember Me

Firstly my apologies, my original version had no disclaimer and no summary. Also thanks to the person who pointed out an error. This has now been rectified. Umm...yes, it is the first time I've posted a story. How did you guess??  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine. Joss's and ME's. Hope they don't mind me playing with them. I'll give them all back at the end.  
  
Summary: Some memories are sweet others can be killers, as Spike is finding out. No need to tell Angel this, he already knows.  
  
Chapter 1  
  
Remember Me  
  
Roused to consciousness by the screaming pain in his arms, soaked in the stench of his own blood and looking at the stumps where his hands should be had been...shocking. But, in the end, nothing that couldn't be fixed by Filthdamned & Tart, as Spike affectionately liked to think of Eve and the rest of her merry crew.  
  
No, it wasn't that which sent him reeling with horror and spiralling into darkness.  
  
Since his soul he'd had to admit that there was a lingering sense of regret at no longer being able to revel in havoc and mayhem. When you came right down to it, it had been bloody entertaining. Yeah, bloody in the literal sense of the word. He was no Angelus. He hadn't been in it for the artistry of torturing and breaking people. All he'd wanted was a bit of fun.  
  
Now he'd been forced to face the cost of that sort of fun. And discovered it was more than he could afford to pay.  
  
Sure, the girl and her family were not his victims but, so what? Many others were.  
  
Just because evil was a by-product rather than his intention, it didn't necessarily make him less evil. Hell, at least Angelus had the grace to recognise his victims as people and had given them his full attention. You have to know a person before you can truly break them. It is indeed an art.  
  
Spike's brand of casual cruelty celebrated his exuberant joy in the act, rather than satisfaction in the reactions of those who suffered at his hands. He negated their very existence by treating them as so much flotsam and jetsam.  
  
These thoughts were new and unnatural to him. They spun around his head as he tried to drop into a healing sleep. When he did sleep it was far from restful. Old memories were dredged up and for the first time his victims became people instead of merely food and playthings. The careless glee he had found in such violence sickened him and this horror was compounded because bloody violence still thrilled him. It was seductive. He needed it. Yeah, lets go out and kill something!  
  
How does a good soul come to terms with that?  
  
The nurses would find blood soaking through the sheets as he unconsciously tore at his bandages and clawed into his wounds. The fragile knitting of bones fractured as he tried to remove his own hands.  
  
"You need to sleep, Spike." Angel said and for once there was no edge in his voice.  
  
"Sleep? They haunt me, you know? It's not sleep. It's a night out of hell...retribution. They tell me she was right, if I don't have hands I can never touch anyone again."  
  
"Do you remember how it used to be, Angelus? Cutting off hands? Fountains of blood showering on to your face, so warm and sweet. So much fun. We deserve damnation. Hero? Redemption? Shanshu? Maybe you. Maybe you've managed to earn it. But me? Never. They tell me I deserve to suffer and they're right, I do." His voice was a tired whisper of its normal mocking, ironic tone.  
  
"Yes. You do."  
  
Angel was determined not to feel pity. He and Spike were the same and Spike deserved no more pity than he gave himself. Then he sighed because pity wasn't about what others deserved it was about what he was able to give. Looking at this man, with his hollowed out face, haunted eyes and a body with barely the strength to raise itself from the pillow, Angel found it within him to feel compassion even for this 'thing' he loathed.  
  
"We'll find a way to help you, Spike."  
  
Spike gave a lift of an eyebrow, some attempt at normality, "Help me? You going soft in your old age, Peaches?"  
  
Sometimes Angel could almost admire the younger vampire's bravado. But on the whole it just irritated the hell out of him.  
  
***  
  
"He's not healing." Angel told them during their morning meeting.  
  
"He needs blood and he needs sleep, that's all." Wesley replied.  
  
"He's getting blood and then losing it all. He hurts himself in his sleep." Fred chipped in.  
  
"So it's sleeping that's the problem, that's when he starts tearing shreds out of himself." Gunn assessed.  
  
"I hope you're not suggesting we remove anyone's sleep, Sweetcheeks." Lorne shuddered dramatically.  
  
"Oh man, no. I'm with you there...really am. I meant what happens when he sleeps. Why does he do it?"  
  
"The girl thought Spike was the man who tortured her. She was so broken."  
  
Broken beyond hope of repair, Angel privately thought, but Andrew had effectively taken the matter out of his hands. Authorised by Buffy herself. And there was a track he wasn't yet prepared to travel.  
  
"Anyway, the accusation brought back old memories and cast them in a different light. He'd never really considered his victims before. He didn't know them, had no attachment to them, so they didn't count. From what he says, when he sleeps he's seeing everything from their point of view. On top of the shock of having his hands cut off and being so weak physically, it's too much for him."  
  
"So it's not actually the sleep that's the problem, is it?" Wesley asked.  
  
Fred immediately caught on.  
  
"No. No, it's the memories." She said slowly. "Which means that if we..."  
  
"Removed the memories." Wesley continued.  
  
"Then he should sleep like a little old baby." Fred finished triumphantly and shared a smile with Wesley.  
  
"Remove his memories? Are you sure?" Angel frowned.  
  
"Obviously this would be short term memory removal, you understand. Once he's recovered physically he'll be better able to fight mentally."  
  
"Uh...so what...you just select the memories you want to remove?" Angel asked.  
  
"No. It's really not a selective procedure and his memories of hunting and killing go so far back we would be removing most of his life anyway. No, I think it would be for the best if we wiped them completely."  
  
"You can do that?"  
  
"I don't see why not, there are any number of methods we could use."  
  
Angel considered the proposal. Part of him wanted to protest, 'Why should he have a break? I've spent a hundred years living with this torment, when did anyone ever give me a damned break?'  
  
Instead he just nodded.  
  
"Ok. Do it. I'll leave it up to you and Fred to decide the best way."  
  
"Uh...Angel?" Fred said hesitantly. Angel raised his brows.  
  
"He'll need to be cared for, you know, whilst he's healing."  
  
"The place he's in..."  
  
"Is fine when he's himself, all souled and memory having. But how does a vampire with no memory behave? He might try to do something in his confusion. He needs someone who is strong enough to handle him."  
  
"He's so weak anyone could handle him." Angel protested.  
  
"Yes, that's true but he's going to recover his strength before he recovers his memories. I mean that is the point, isn't it?"  
  
Angle could see exactly where this was leading and was determined to cut off that train of thought pretty damn quick.  
  
"He is not staying with me."  
  
***  
  
Later that day another bed was installed in Angel's apartment and Spike was wheeled in, under Fred and Wesley's supervision. Angel sighed really, really loudly but they didn't appear to hear. He sulked whilst Spike pouted.  
  
"You should have consulted me, I do have a view on this you know and my view is I'm not bloody staying with him!"  
  
"Yes, quite." Agreed Wesley. "You should be allowed to do what you want."  
  
"Too right." Spike replied, confusion written all over his face at having the ex-watcher on side.  
  
"So please, feel free to walk away if our arrangements are not to your liking."  
  
Angel smirked as the blonde vampire struggled to support his weight on his elbows. And failed.  
  
"You know, Percy? You're a complete wanker." Spike complained as he flopped gracelessly back down.  
  
Angel and Wesley lifted him on to the bed.  
  
"If it makes you feel any better, I really don't want you here. It depresses me just thinking about it." Angel told him.  
  
"Really? You're not just saying that?"  
  
"Oh, go away, Spike."  
  
"Would if I could, Braintrust."  
  
"Will you two please cut it out? This is for your own good, Spike. And Angel if you could stop sulking, it is most unbecoming in a man...vampire of your years."  
  
"You realise he'll probably murder me in my sleep?"  
  
"Spike!" Wesley felt as though he was dealing with a couple of bickering brats.  
  
Angel took the opportunity to lean over the blonde and whisper softly.  
  
"Murder you in your sleep? Where's the fun in that? No. I'd wait until you were wide awake and weak and helpless as a kitten and then I'd..."  
  
"Watcher! Make him stop!"  
  
"Angel! Will you please refrain from teasing him."  
  
"You're gonna be alright, Spike." Fred said in her soothing drawl. "We're all gonna look after you. And you know Angel wouldn't hurt you."  
  
"Yeah. Right."  
  
"You're family. I know families, you may spit and claw like two cats a in sack but there's always an undercurrent, there's always love."  
  
"Hey! No love here!" Angel protested and then a shadow crossed his face as he realised what he'd said.  
  
Huh. Out of the mouths of babes and idiots...certainly no love here.  
  
Andrew had made it clear that Buffy thought he was untrustworthy, possibly even evil, Cordelia may have loved him but she was dead to the world, Darla was gone, Dru wanted her daddy, Penn was dust, Spike made fun of him...oh and tried to kill him and Connor hated him...oh and tried to kill him.  
  
No, these thoughts were just too painful. He forced his mind blank.  
  
Spike missed the brooding expression and just rolled his eyes at Angel's indignant response.  
  
"Doesn't work quite that way with vampire families, luv. Does it, Granddad?"  
  
Thoughts of Penn, Darla and Drusilla hung heavy in the air between them.  
  
Wesley cleared his throat and tried to smooth the awkward moment.  
  
"They were evil and Angel had no choice. You're a good man, Spike."  
  
He found to his surprise that he actually believed his own words. This strange vampire had put Fred's life before his own eternal damnation and that counted for just about everything in his book.  
  
Contrary as ever, Spike wanted to protest, tell them he was bad to the core. Take cover in old, well-used posturing but what was the point? He couldn't fool himself, he couldn't fool them and to be truthful he wasn't sure if even wanted to. He didn't know what he was anymore. He fought the good fight that used to be Angel's before he sold out. He had a seer and helped the helpless. He'd saved the world and been called a hero. But he didn't feel like one. A bad man trying to do good was the best he could say of himself.  
  
He realised that he did need respite from the continuous circles of his thoughts. They'd carved grooves so deep it was impossible for him to think of anything else and like a scratched record he was always jumping back to the same point and replaying the same old track. Some good, solid sleep, then he'd be able to think clearly about all this crap.  
  
"So. How does this mojo work then?"  
  
Wesley had just started to discuss it with Angel and he turned to include him as well.  
  
"As I was saying, there are a number of ways to do this. We decided against the more common 'tabula rasa' crystal method as it can be unpredictable..."  
  
"Tell me about it. Bloody witches." Spike snarked.  
  
"Yes...well." Wesley smoothed over Spike's outburst, not knowing the source of it and not wanting to get side tracked.  
  
"Anyway, we have chosen a word based spell. We set it up and a word will take the memories away, when we decide its finished then we dismantle the spell. The advantage of this is that if the memories start to seep back before you're ready we won't have to start the spell again. We just say the word and it will give you another period of trouble free rest."  
  
"So the memories return naturally? How long will he have before they return?" Angel asked.  
  
"With a normal human ten days to a fortnight. A vampire? Considerably shorter I would guess, given your general immunities and accelerated rates of recovery."  
  
"OK. And what can we expect when the spell takes effect?"  
  
"Well, the memory wipe will be complete. He'll be equivalent to a newborn baby and will learn in much the same fashion. However, his ability to learn will be greatly enhanced as his muscles, motor skills and co- ordination are already fully developed. Then gradually his memories will return"  
  
"A newborn baby! I don't bloody think..."  
  
"Spike. Do you want to be able to rest or not?" Angel asked.  
  
"Oh frigging hell...just do whatever you have to." Spike laid back and for the first time in 126 years felt curiously powerless, as though it was out of his hands, not his responsibility. It was unexpectedly comforting.  
  
He closed his eyes and waited. 


	2. Innocence

Disclaimer: Nope, not mine. Joss's and ME's. Hope they don't mind me playing with them. I'll give them all back at the end.  
  
Summary: Innocence, so fragile, so easily lost and yet, miraculously, some people manage to retain it. Some do not. And then there are others who have it, lose it then find it again and, oops! it slips away once more.  
  
Chapter 2  
  
Innocence  
  
Lindsey was shaving when he felt warm arms curl around his waist.  
  
"Hey there, Sweetheart. You're back early."  
  
"Ah, but I knew what was waiting for me and couldn't resist."  
  
He rinsed his face and turned towards her, reaching for a towel and patting himself dry.  
  
"And look at you, all clean and edible." She nipped playfully at his chin. "Just waiting for me to dirty you up."  
  
He gave his boyish grin and she was blown away all over again.  
  
"Yeah? Is that a promise?"  
  
"Oh baby, you know me. I don't give anything for nothing." she smirked as she let her hands move over his tattooed body.  
  
"Well, how about I..." he leaned closer to whisper into her ear, letting the breath of his words tickle the tip of her ear.  
  
She tried to suppress the shiver of lust that ran up her body and smiled at him wickedly.  
  
"You have got yourself a deal, honey."  
  
Lindsey considered himself lucky. He needed an insider but to have one at her level was a godsend. That she was attractive and sexy was a bonus but made no difference in the end. He'd have seduced Attila the Hun if it helped his plan.  
  
"How was work?"  
  
He managed to sound genuinely concerned and interested in her day whilst fishing for information.  
  
"New development. Your champion is currently out of the game."  
  
"Oh. Dead?"  
  
"No. It was touch and go for a while. They've taken away his memories to give him time to heal."  
  
"Really?" His mind was working fast. "This could open up a whole new game. I need you to take a look, darling. Suss it out, see how everyone is reacting. Strain their loyalties."  
  
"What? Now?" she pouted prettily as she let her hands move lower.  
  
"Hmmm. No, not right now." he drawled.  
  
"We have an agreement to fulfil and I'm thinking there's a few points we need to go over first."  
  
His look was so lascivious it made her stomach flip over. His mouth covered hers as he guided her back towards the bed and as his hard, muscled body moved over her, nothing else mattered.  
  
She know she was a fool, knew she was being played but these were the moments that made her dangerous choice worthwhile.  
  
***  
  
Spike was curled into his blankets, his hair tousled and his eyes blinking and sleep filled. Fred couldn't help but ruffle that hair.  
  
"Aw! He's so cute."  
  
"He does have a certain innocent charm, in this state." Wesley whispered back.  
  
"Do you think he's gonna suck his thumb?"  
  
"We'll have the pictures if he does."  
  
Fred looked at him in query.  
  
"Blackmail is an ugly word, but as they say, payback's a bitch." He said with a small smile.  
  
"Ah! I know what you mean, 'Percy'" Fred giggled at Spike's pet name for him. "And you so do not suit that name."  
  
"Well, I have to admit, it seems a step up from 'Watcher'. It always gave me an uneasy feeling whenever he called me that!"  
  
It made Wesley feel good to see her laugh so easily. He smiled tenderly and hers slowly changed from amusement to something so warm it to made him glow. Of course, it was just his imagination. She was still involved with that Knox creature. He turned away to hide the distress that passed over his open face.  
  
She frowned as he turned away. Perhaps he really didn't care for her that way anymore. Strange, the thought made her throat ache.  
  
Wesley covered his surge of emotion. He didn't want her to feel awkward when she was with him.  
  
"Its rather peculiar having a silent Spike. Eerie almost." He commented.  
  
"Peaceful. Blissful. A miracle." Muttered Angel as he came in holding bags of warmed blood.  
  
"Hey, Spike. Food's up."  
  
Blue eyes focused on him curiously. Nostrils twitched slightly as Angel pierced a bag and brought it towards his mouth. A drop hit his tongue and suddenly Spike was in vamp face, suckling the bag and making small contented sounds.  
  
"That's....uh...sort of cute and sort of...disturbing."  
  
"Indeed." Wesley agreed, equally fascinated by the sight.  
  
"You're thinking another photo opportunity?"  
  
"When did you get to know me so well?"  
  
Angel looked at them in confusion as they began to laugh.  
  
"Why don't you two get back to work? I'll be down as soon as I've got him back to sleep."  
  
"Of course. If you need anything..."  
  
"I'll give you a call."  
  
Angel slipped another pillow under Spike's head and settled next to him, watching him as he fed. He found it quite soothing listening to the blood being ingested, the regular swallowing motion produced a curious pulse-like rhythm.  
  
He hardly noticed as the other two left and certainly didn't notice as Wesley looked back with a troubled look on his face, one hand rubbing absently at his neck.  
  
"Is something wrong?" Fred asked.  
  
"Not precisely. Just watching Angel settle him down to sleep, I had a most peculiar feeling."  
  
"Well, they do make sort of a weird picture..."  
  
"No, that's the thing. It didn't feel weird, more like a sudden glimpse of familiarity."  
  
"Déjà vu?"  
  
"Yes, I suppose it was."  
  
"So, nothing to worry about." Fred said and then caught the look on his face. "Is it?" she asked uncertainly.  
  
Wesley gave her a reassuring look.  
  
"Of course not." he replied and smiled.  
  
The smile left his face as soon as Fred had turned into her laboratory. The feeling had disturbed him. There was something on the very edge of his mind that he couldn't quite touch.  
  
He was almost glad he couldn't.  
  
***  
  
Angel berated Spike as he wiped at blood dribbling down the contented vampire's chin.  
  
"You really are a pig, Spike. And look! How the hell did you manage to get it on my jacket?" he complained crossly.  
  
Then chuckled as he found himself waiting for the normal derogatory comments.  
  
"Hey, no comeback! I could almost get to like this new, improved you. Wonder if Wes would do me a favour and remove your voice once you get your memories back?"  
  
Angel could relax now that Wes and Fred had left. He reached for another bag of blood and casually turned into vamp face.  
  
Spike stopped feeding, his golden eyes eying him in amazement.  
  
"Jees. You lay there with your wrinkled brow and teeth that a rotweiller would be proud of and look at me as though I'm the wacky one! You're not going to freak out on me now, are you?"  
  
He pushed the bag back towards Spike's mouth, who once again nuzzled into it. Meanwhile, Angel managed to one-handedly pierce the other bag and pour it into a waiting cup. Hah! He still had the old skills. He remembered a time when he'd had to do everything one-handed. A time when he'd had one arm constantly wrapped around his precious bundle.  
  
Not constantly enough came the bitter thought. He pushed it to one side as usual. Not that he was repressing, he told himself, just preferred not to think about certain things.  
  
He knocked back the pig's blood and returned to contemplate a dozy, relaxed Spike. It suddenly occurred to him how vulnerable Spike had made himself by agreeing to this. It took a great deal of trust. Did Spike trust him that much? Or had he just given up? Huh. Spike give up? He was sure that if he looked up 'tenacious' in the dictionary he would see Spike's face staring back at him.  
  
So Spike trusted him? That was kind of surprising. He let his mind coast aimlessly. Daytime really wasn't his natural awake time. His eyes slowly began to drift shut. Until a noise disturbed him and they shot open.  
  
He looked up to find that Eve had let herself into his apartment and was surveying the scene with her normal air of amused superiority.  
  
"Oh how cosy! Are you playing happy families. How...umm...I don't think 'sweet' quite covers it, do you? But don't you think he's a little old to play baby?"  
  
"How did you get in here, Eve? Oh, never mind. What do you want?"  
  
"Well, since you ask, lover..." she purred seductively.  
  
"Sorry. No spell. No chance."  
  
"Blunt aren't you? I find plain speaking so attractive in a man." Angel ignored her teasing and waited her out patiently. "But as it happens there is something else."  
  
"Well?"  
  
"The Senior Partners are concerned."  
  
"And exactly how does that effect me?"  
  
"Really, Angel. You should know better by now. If the Senior Partners are concerned then you can guarantee it affects us all."  
  
"What is it this time?"  
  
"It's to do with him." Eve nodded to the bed.  
  
Angel followed her gaze.  
  
He was fast asleep, his head fallen away from the bag, his mouth slightly open. Blood had once again managed to escape and trickled down one side of his face, marring his, otherwise, all too human appearance. Angel picked up a tissue to clean him up.  
  
Eve started to laugh.  
  
"Now isn't this ironic? William the Bloody and his nursemaid, Angelus the Scourge of Europe!"  
  
Angel found himself wishing Spike awake and back to his malicious self. He'd have a ready quip tripping of his tongue designed to put this poisonous bitch in her place. It crossed his mind that Spike must spend hours thinking them up. There again he'd always had a way with words and a way of seeing the truth, which in combination could be nuclear in its devastation.  
  
He finished cleaning the blood and pulled up his blanket to make sure he was properly covered.  
  
"Now why did you do that? I was enjoying the view."  
  
Angel growled quietly. He felt a little protective towards this helpless Spike.  
  
However, it was more than that. Angelus was stirring somewhere deep inside and letting his irritation show by bombarding Angel's mind with all sorts of creative ideas involving Eve and various everyday implements. Perhaps if she knew the fine line she walked it might help her fit of giggles.  
  
"Lets do this down in my office."  
  
Gunn caught them as they were entering the office.  
  
"Hey, Boss. I need to talk you about..."  
  
"Good. Join us."  
  
"Ok. What's up?"  
  
"Apparently we have a problem." He nodded at Eve to continue.  
  
"The Senior Partners do not approve of you taking out Spike. You realise he's now changed from pawn to major player?"  
  
Gunn bridled slightly at that.  
  
"Hang on a moment. Let's get this straight. Spike would have been out of the game, permanently, if we hadn't taken this action."  
  
"What makes you think that?" Eve asked quietly and looked towards Angel. She was pleased to note that Gunn had followed her gaze. She smiled slightly because damn, she was good!  
  
"I don't know what petty jealousies motivated you but, please, don't insult my intelligence. There is one certainty in this world, Spike survives."  
  
'Like a cockroach', sprang immediately to Angel's mind, more from habit than malice. Considering the way the other two were looking at him, he very wisely decided to keep the thought to himself.  
  
For a second there, the bitch had almost convinced him that Angel had ulterior motives in his dealings with Spike. Then he remembered just how faded the normally ebullient vampire had looked.  
  
"Petty jealousies? Be careful, Eve, or I'm going to sue your ass." Gunn smiled pleasantly. "Re Butler v Jessop..." he was about to add a date but found he couldn't recall it, he frowned and then covered quickly, "I suggest you look it up."  
  
'Now wasn't that interesting?' Eve thought as she looked at him curiously, saying, "Yes, I will...would you care to join me?"  
  
Angel sensed the discomfort she was causing and took over.  
  
"So the Senior Partners aren't happy. That's sad, but I find myself strangely unmoved. Even if we were inclined to bring him back, it doesn't work that way. He'll recover in his own time."  
  
"And how long will that take? Days? Weeks? Months?"  
  
Gunn shook his head and Angel nodded in agreement.  
  
"I'm afraid I really couldn't tell you."  
  
"I see. In that case, we'll call this meeting over and I'll go back and report."  
  
She swished out with her head held high but her mouth was a thin, hard line and betrayed her annoyance.  
  
Gunn waited until the door had shut behind her.  
  
"I don't think this was about the Senior Partners, the girl was just on a fishing trip."  
  
"I agree, but why? If not for them, then for who? I don't trust her. She is playing her own game."  
  
A snort of agreement answered him.  
  
"We know so little about her. Do me a favour? We have access to all contracts and agreements natural and supernatural?"  
  
Gun nodded.  
  
"You've got all this knowledge, its time we made use of it for a really good cause."  
  
Angel smiled at him. So far they had all virtually ignored Gunn's new talent, as being something vaguely unwholesome. In contrast, they all made use of his own position as CEO of an evil law firm and used it in their attempt to do good. It was time to accept that Gunn's mystically acquired skills could also be used in the cause.  
  
"I want you to find out all about her and every agreement she's ever made. Go through them with a fine toothcomb. See if there is anything there that will give us a clue."  
  
Gunn hesitated. He wanted to mention that he thought there might be a glitch in his new Mr Amazing memory act. But Angel trusted him to do this and it felt good to be recognised for something other than his brawn.  
  
"I'm on it, Boss." he replied.  
  
As he left the office he found Eve waiting outside. Her eyes screwed up slightly in concern.  
  
"Are you ok?"  
  
"I'm fine, girl." He replied, trying to stride away from her. She was fast for such a little person.  
  
"I just couldn't help noticing that your upgrade seems to be...downgrading slightly?"  
  
"It's not a problem."  
  
"No, I don't suppose it is. After all you were quite happy, you know, before you became...intelligent." She gave him a bright smile.  
  
"The Senior Partners giveth and the Senior Partners taketh away." she breezed.  
  
Lindsey would be pleased with today's work and she smiled secretively at exactly how pleased he might be.  
  
Gunn was left standing, stunned and alone, in a very long corridor.  
  
"Back to being a stupid, muscle bound buffoon?" he thought to himself.  
  
Whereas, old Gunn might have considered it odd how 'Educated People' measured everyone to their own yardstick of intelligence, in which smart, wise and loyal never seemed to figure. New Gunn merely used the yardstick to beat himself up with.  
  
He figured it wouldn't help anyone if he lost his intelligence. There again it was just one little date he'd forgotten. Fred used to say that there were always some little niggles whenever you tried to upgrade anything. He'd wait and see. No point rushing anything.  
  
His bleeper went off. Strange, he'd only just left Angel. He returned to find the whole gang standing in the office. It appeared everyone had got the call.  
  
Angel had the phone to his ear and looked to be in shock. 'Shit, who's died?' Gunn wondered and did another quick reccy of the room. No, all here. Except Spike.  
  
Angel looked at them whilst still listening to the person on the line.  
  
"Its Cordelia."  
  
No wonder he looked so shocked and confused.  
  
"I'm so sorry, man." Gunn said.  
  
"No." Angel gestured at the phone. "Its Cordelia!" 


	3. Visions

Disclaimer: Nope, still not mine. Joss's and ME's. Hope they don't mind me playing with them. I'll give them all back at the end...I suppose.  
  
Summary: Cordelia shares her vision. Angel shares his guilt.  
  
Chapter 3  
  
Visions  
  
Angel's pov  
  
"I know. I'm a vision of hotliness. How weird is that?"  
  
Everyone laughs because we had all given up hope and it's been so very long since we've seen Cordy like this. So bright. So focused. So beautiful. Like a cool, fresh breeze bringing the promise of clearer skies. I sit back in my chair and laugh along with the others, drinking in the sight of her.  
  
She tells us about the vision that roused her from her coma and they go to research the runes she saw, tattooed on the body of a man. They are chattering happily and it feels good. It feels like the old times. And now, at last, I have her to myself. Nearly.  
  
There's a shadow in the doorway and Eve walks in. I'm sure that she's been eavesdropping. She starts to blow off about the $10 million bail the Company lost. She reminds me of everything I hate about where I am now. It makes me cringe that Cordelia is listening to this and realising how far I've strayed. Finally Eve deigns to notices her.  
  
"And who is this?" she asks in a patronising tone.  
  
Cordelia lifts her head high at the tone that's been adopted.  
  
"I'm Cordelia Chase." She answers and there is nothing but ice in her voice.  
  
"Hi, I'm..."  
  
"I didn't ask."  
  
I can't help grinning. Queen C. Haven't seen her for a while. Gotta love that girl! I am so proud of her for not taking all the ambivalent crap that we put up with. She's right, Eve isn't the sort of person we should be listening to. Jeez, she tried to kill me. Why did I let her stay? Oh yeah. Can't afford to upset the Senior Partners.  
  
They trade a few more insults. We're really going to have to do something about Eve, I think to myself, as she finally leaves. I hear her using her mobile as she walks away, saying brusquely, "Cordelia Chase is back." She's obviously forgotten about vamp hearing and I wonder just who would be interested in that bit of news?  
  
Cordelia looks at me and it's as if her clear, wide eyes see through to my soul. After exposing her to Evil Eve and the glimpses she's caught of the various demons we deal with, I feel defensive. I try to tell her about all the good I'm doing here, but she doesn't buy it.  
  
She knows I'm lost.  
  
She still remembers Connor and the relief of having another person to share this burden with does my soul good. She is cross, tells me I've raped their minds by taking away the memory of him. I need to hear this because my moral compass is damaged and no longer points north. She gives me direction.  
  
But this is one thing I refuse to regret. I did it for him. For Connor. I remember Spike telling me that the girl, Dana, had borne too much pain. It had made her a monster. Between us: myself, Holzt, Jasmine and yes, even Cordelia, we made a monster out of Connor. When I think of the baby I held in my arms, so innocent and perfect, it breaks my heart. So, no regrets. His tormented soul has finally found some peace and he's growing up into everything I had wished for him. Is there a price I wouldn't pay for that?  
  
However, talking of tormented souls I need to make another confession...  
  
"Uh...you know they told you about Spike? How he has a soul and everything?"  
  
"Oh yeah! I mean you the CEO of an evil law firm and Spike is good, what weirdo alternative universe have I landed in?" she joked. I think she was joking.  
  
"Yeah. Well. He's sort of a hero now, has his own seer and everything." Jees, I'm babbling, "And we took his memories away." I finally mumble.  
  
At this point I'm looking at my feet and scuffing the toes of my shoes on the carpet. I don't want to look at her. I don't want to see the disappointed on her face.  
  
"Okay. This playing with people's memories is getting far too 'Groundhog Day' for my liking. You better have a good explanation, Buster."  
  
So I explain and she begins to look less severe, thank God. I so do not want Cordy upset with me.  
  
"You know, the thing that makes you so...'Jack Sparrow', is the lengths you're prepared to go to for the people you care about." She shakes her head sadly.  
  
"Jack Sparrow?" I ask. I feel my brow creasing in confusion.  
  
"Unpredictable? Morally ambiguous?"  
  
"Oh...I thought you meant...uh...camp." I said, running a hand through my hair and feeling kind of embarrassed.  
  
She starts to laugh. I feel my lips begin to twitch, as well.  
  
"What is this, Cordy? Did they give you visions of all the latest movies, whilst you were...uh...away?" I ask because it's scary how much she seems to know. I wonder if anything we told her was actually news to her at all? She rolls her eyes.  
  
"I wish. My visions aren't quite so entertaining."  
  
"You never saw 'Lost in Translation'." I mutter. Stories about emotionally lost people don't appeal to me, for some reason.  
  
She gives me one of her megawatt smiles and suddenly hugs me, saying, "You did a good thing for Spike."  
  
"Did I? I find it hard to tell sometimes."  
  
"Now, I want none of that, Broodboy. You listen to me. I was given a vision and sent to share it with you. You know what that means? You're still their champion. You're not abandoned and, despite your really awful decisions recently, you're not beyond hope."  
  
Her words almost sizzle as they hit me, like the first drops of rain falling on parched land and I am desperate for them. Because I feel so alone in all this. Because it was me who made the deal for Connor and took the helm of this damned law firm. Because the others followed me. Maybe they each had their reasons but if I hadn't have accepted they would not be here. Sometimes it's hard to keep faith. Days when I feel like I've dragged them into damnation with me. I look at Cordy and know she understands me.  
  
"So how is the not-so-evil undead doing?" she asks brightly.  
  
"He's still got no feeling or movement in his hands but definitely getting stronger. He gave Fred his first smile yesterday. He got a bit of language back today."  
  
"I remember his language and I pale to think what his first words were. My money's on 'bloody hell!'"  
  
"Actually it was 'Angel'. I mean the way they all talk to him it was inevitable, 'do you want Angel to get your blood now?'" I mimicked, "it was always going to be a close call between 'Angel' and 'blood'."  
  
Despite my words, I had to admit that I did feel flattered. I caught Cordelia's look and it was so tender I could swear I felt my heart beat.  
  
"Sounds like he's doing fine. Do you mind if I look in on him sometime?"  
  
"Of course, he likes visitors. I forget how sociable he is. He must get lonely here sometimes. Although he has his seer now." I'm babbling again. Cordelia just affects me that way.  
  
"And he has you and the rest of the gang."  
  
I nod but knew that it was only Fred who made any time for him.  
  
"He saved Fred's life once, you know. He risked hell rather than see her die. He hardly knew her then."  
  
"You must be proud of him."  
  
I look up in surprise.  
  
"He's sort of like your childe, isn't he? I can't imagine that crazy vamp had much to do with the raising of him."  
  
"Anything good in him survived despite me, not because of me."  
  
"Even more reason to be proud of him." Cordelia says decidedly.  
  
"Yeah. I guess..." I had never considered Spike in quite this light. Pain in the ass? Definitely. Rival? Yeah. A childe to be proud of? That required further thought.  
  
Gunn interrupts us, poking his head around the door and asking, "You busy, Angel?"  
  
"No, its fine. Come in." I reply.  
  
"I've managed to turn up something on, Eve. We've got an address of someone she has had dealings with recently. Down town area, not her usual sort of hangout."  
  
"What have you got?"  
  
"Actually, I don't know. She's managed to hide part of it from us. We know she made an agreement there. The particulars of which, I can assure you, you do not want to know, but that is one kinky lady."  
  
"Anyway, we have details of the agreement, we have yesterday as the contractual date and we have the address where the contract was closed. We do not have the name of the other party. It's been hidden from us, from the Senior Partners, everyone."  
  
"I've had the mystics scan the address and there is nothing there. It's as though it doesn't exist. My theory is that its been hidden to prevent the person living there becoming susceptible to surveillance. We only came across it because we weren't searching for it specifically. We came at it through Eve, through the backdoor, so to speak."  
  
"So the contract itself doesn't affect us."  
  
"Man, I hope not. It's just some skanky verbal agreement. You know, to do with, well, sex."  
  
"We have copies of that sort of stuff? Well...ok. Obviously we do. It just seems a little..."  
  
"Oh, yeah!" Cordelia and Gunn both agreed with similar grimaces of distaste.  
  
"So are we checking out this address, Boss?"  
  
I nodded and turned to Cordy.  
  
"You ok?"  
  
"Uh huh. I'll go keep the 'Bleached and the Beautiful' company."  
  
I could feel myself frowning.  
  
"You think he's beautiful?"  
  
"Uh, duh!"  
  
I wasn't sure if that meant 'Duh! Of course I find him beautiful, doesn't everybody' or 'Duh! Don't you even know when I'm being sarcastic.' so I let it lie. I sometimes forget how these Sunnydale people seem to speak another language. Spike could tune into it but I frequently find myself at a disadvantage.  
  
***  
  
The reason why the scryers couldn't see the apartment was obvious as soon as we walked in. It's covered in runes. Exactly the same as the one's from Cordy's vision that Wesley had identified as being concealment runes.  
  
The room is almost empty. A pair of jeans, a pair of cowboy boots and what appears to be a pad with crib notes written on it. A few key words on each page and I recognise them all.  
  
Sleminthe parasite. Anaesthetic. Nightmares. Next page. Dana. Asylum. Dr Rabinaw. A few more names and places that have featured in some of our cases recently.  
  
"I think I recognise the writing." I say, showing the pad to Gunn.  
  
"Eve." we both agree.  
  
"You know what else these have in common?"  
  
Gunn shakes his head trying to get the connection. No he wouldn't. He may be brighter than I am but I've had a vested interest in all these cases. These are my failures, my embarrassments and...  
  
"They're all cases where Spike waded in and saved the day." I tell him.  
  
Gunn sees it straight away.  
  
"And he was directed to them by his 'seer'. Who, it appears, is getting insider information from our sweet, little Eve. Spike has been manipulated."  
  
"Why would they do that?" I frown.  
  
"Probably to get to you. Make you doubt yourself, doubt your mission."  
  
And it so nearly succeeded. I had come so close to giving up. I feel uplifted. Vindicated. They were trying to make me quit, so I must be doing something right after all - still a force to be reckoned with. It's another sign that perhaps I haven't strayed too badly. Maybe I can fix that compass of mine. Then the familiar guilt comes crashing in. My faith restored at the expense of Spike and his newly awakened belief in his destiny. I have Cordelia and her visions and a purpose. Spike has been left with nothing.  
  
We return home and I take the elevator to my apartment, to find them both sitting up in bed, with a bowl of snacks between them. They seem to have a system going. Each time Spike nudges her, Cordy automatically pops a Cheezy Puff into his mouth. They look so comfortable and relaxed together that I have a momentary twinge of jealousy. Whether it's of Spike or Cordy, I couldn't say. Then it dawns on me that I have no need to be jealous, I'm not an outsider, I'm part of it. I could sit between them and they would welcome me and feed me Cheezy Puffs. I grin because I'm having a revelation involving snack food and because, well I'm not entirely sure, it's been so long since I've felt like this but, I think I'm...happy.  
  
They're watching a video of...Doyle? Cordelia is talking to Spike, telling him about our old life. It is like a splash of cold water and brings me back to myself. Doyle is nervously telling us that, "our rats are low". Video-Cordy berates him.  
  
I'm not stupid, I know what she is trying to make me see with this little scene. I've wandered far from the mission that Doyle gave his life for. This is my wake up call.  
  
"Hi." I say softly, reluctant to interrupt.  
  
Spike gives me a happy grin, as he nudges Cordelia again and gets yet another snack popped into his mouth. He has an unnatural orange stain around his mouth and looks so pleased with himself I can't help but return his smile. I realise that I can't remember when he last looked at me like that. I mean, with a genuine smile, not his sarcastic smirk or that stinging, contemptuous curl of the lips.  
  
And I can hardly believe it! But I swear the little git just rolled his eyes at me as I dropped into brood mode...I mean, pensive contemplation. Is he starting to remember me? Already? I look at Cordelia but she appears oblivious to it.  
  
"Hi there! How did you get on?" she asks.  
  
"Found out Eve is up to her neck in it. She's in league with Spike's so called 'seer'." I answer.  
  
I see Spike cock his head at the mention of his name. I'm pretty confident that he won't yet understand a word of this, so I continue.  
  
"They were playing him, pretending he had a higher purpose but it was all a sham, an attempt to bring me down. We're going to have a little chat with Eve now."  
  
Cordelia turns towards Spike and puts a hand to his cheek, making him look at her.  
  
"Hey. Listen up. Just because they were pulling your strings, doing a 'Captain Scarlett' number on you that doesn't discount the lives you saved and it doesn't mean that you don't have a higher purpose."  
  
She gives him a gentle kiss.  
  
"It doesn't mean you're not needed."  
  
The feeling of love hits me like a ball of warmth in the stomach and spreads out through my body, I think I must glow from the heat of it. I don't think I shall ever meet such a compassionate, witty, sassy, sexy, straight talking, beautiful woman.  
  
I look at them both and wish that I could stop time, right here. My fingers itch for a piece of charcoal to capture this moment forever. All the affection I hide behind my heavy frown and stoic demeanour is clamouring for release.  
  
He is staring back at her solemnly and I wonder how much he does understand.  
  
I don't want to leave him alone but we've got a confession to wring from an evil bitch. It could get nasty and I don't want it to stir up bad memories for him, I always manage to mess up the people I care about. I'm determined that it won't happen with Spike, not this time around.  
  
Huh? People I care about? I care about Spike? Ok, not such a startling revelation. Just something I hide from, another thing I repress, for so many reasons - mainly because I feel like I've failed him. Badly. In admitting it I feel like a weight has lifted. With the admission there comes the possibility that I can fix what's wrong between us.  
  
"Never doubt it." Cordy whispers.  
  
If this was anyone but Cordy I'd feel spooked.  
  
"Bye, Spike" she calls.  
  
He waves a bandaged hand in response.  
  
"You know what to do if you need me?" I ask.  
  
He nods at me and settles down to watch some awful soap opera. Weird taste this childe.  
  
***  
  
Eve was trying to rush away but I invited her into my office and refused to take 'no' for an answer. We finally got the story from her. Her partner was Lindsey. I'm so stupid, I knew those cowboy boots rang a bell. He was actually in the building and heading for the failsafe.  
  
We put Eve in the elevator and hit down. And it just kept going. I don't think the Senior Partners like being betrayed. I can't help but wonder what made her do it, throw away wealth and success. I mean, sure I'd do it, for the right motivation. For the greater good or for the people I love. The thought of Eve wanting to do good or loving anyone but herself was almost laughable.  
  
We had to move fast. I couldn't help wishing that Spike was with me. Instead, I had to take the more vulnerable humans. Fred gave Wes a quick hug before wishing us all luck. I looked at these determined people and that affection starts to seep out again. Despite this place, at heart, they remain unchanged. I am proud to say they are my friends.  
  
The zombies slowed me down slightly but Wes and Gunn took them on, which gave me and Cordy a chance to reach Lindsey in time. It was a close run thing. Lindsey had managed to enhance his strength and speed but I felt so sure, so powerful.  
  
There were no ambiguities here. I was doing the right thing. I had my friends protecting my back. I had Cordy by my side. Lindsey had picked the wrong day for a fight, and besides, he talked too much. Don't villains know that taunting a guy gets his hackles up and spurs him on to greater heights?  
  
It was a good little fight. In the end the Senior Partners stepped in and took him away, it appeared they weren't very happy with Lindsey either. The only person clever enough to escape from the old Wolfram and Hart, body and soul intact, had been taken back into the bosom of the Company.  
  
It's been a good day. I wish I could end there.  
  
But I can't.  
  
Cordelia is gone. And I feel all my plans, all my hopes, all my visions for the future come crashing down around me.  
  
She looked at me strangely and said, "You're welcome."  
  
I wanted to ask what for? But the telephone rang. They told me she never came around from her coma that she had died peacefully in her sleep. I turned to laugh with her at this stupid mistake but she'd vanished and I realised. She'd come back to give me hope, to give me love, to give me one near perfect day.  
  
"Thank you." I whisper.  
  
Yes, thank you. But I need you. I hurt so much and there is no-one here to hold me.  
  
I need her. I need love. I need...family.  
  
I rush up to Spike and his scent is so familiar, he smells like home. A trace of Cordelia still remains on his lips and his face. I find myself clinging to him. My actions wake him but I can't move. I want to say, 'she's gone', but my throat is so tight I can't form the words. I just bury my face in his neck.  
  
"Hey! What do you think you're doing, poofter."  
  
Oh God, Spike. Don't do this to me. Not now. Don't remember all the bad times just yet. Don't remember how much you hate me. Let me have a few moments of comfort. I need you.  
  
Before I've even thought about what I'm doing I've said the word and he's looking back at me blankly.  
  
My vision blurs as I hold him gently to me and let silent tears fall into his hair. 


	4. Trust

Disclaimer: Nope, still not mine. Joss's and ME's. Hope they don't mind me playing with them. I'll give them all back at the end...if I really have to.  
  
Summary: Angel tries to hide what he's done. Will anyone realise? Can he gain Spike's trust again?  
  
Chapter 4  
  
Trust  
  
Following Cordelia's supernatural appearance and subsequent loss, the general feeling of disbelief began to give way to shocked acceptance. She had crashed through their lives like a tidal wave, sweeping away the bad and leaving calmer water behind her, as well as some collateral damage. It appeared to hit Angel the hardest. He stayed in his room, not answering their calls, only appearing if there was essential business that required his attention.  
  
"Someone should go talk to him." said Gunn.  
  
"But not me." He quickly qualified. "I'm not so hot with the warm vampire fuzzies."  
  
In the end it was Wesley who found himself riding up in the elevator to face the elusive vampire.  
  
Angel appeared remarkably cheerful and Wesley couldn't help commenting on this, in some surprise.  
  
"She gave me the gift of her final day, Wes. It's like, supposing someone gave me...jees, I don't know...say, a perfect miniature ship. It would demean the gift if I started to complain that I wanted the full size version."  
  
Wesley was dumbfounded. Of all reactions he hadn't expected this.  
  
"I am relieved you see it in that light, Angel. To be perfectly frank we were worried about you. It's surprisingly mature of you."  
  
"Uh. Thanks. I think." Angel frowned slightly, as he tried to figure out if he felt complimented or insulted.  
  
"I have to admit that it wasn't my first reaction. I mean at first I was unhappy..."  
  
Which Wesley wisely interpreted as 'devastated'.  
  
"...but, you know, I thought about it..."  
  
'Brooded' Wesley translated,  
  
"...and realised, she came back for a purpose - to put us all on the right track. So, I'm going to make damned sure she achieves it. I owe her that much."  
  
Wesley hoped he wouldn't sound patronising but everyone needed encouragement sometimes.  
  
"Do you know? I feel quite proud of you, Angel."  
  
One side of Angel's mouth twitched as though a smile was trying to force an appearance, succeeded for a microsecond and then gave up, giving it more the appearance of a nervous tic.  
  
"Uh, thanks."  
  
"Anyway," said Wesley feeling more comfortable now he'd got the emotional thing out the way, "how's our patient?"  
  
Angel looked at the floor for a few seconds, and then he lifted his head and smiled brightly.  
  
"He's fine. You know...just Spike. Pain in the ass and all that."  
  
"Yes? Well that's good, he must be feeling a bit better."  
  
"Uh huh. I mean, he hasn't really improved any more since you last saw him."  
  
"Really? And he seemed to be coming on so well, too. May I see him?"  
  
"No! I mean, yes. Yes, of course you can. Except he is sleeping at the moment and I'd rather you didn't wake him."  
  
"In that case I'll leave you to it, I must get back to work anyway. Will you be coming down later?"  
  
"Maybe. I don't like to leave him for long. Can you send someone up from Security, I think we should get a monitor installed in his room."  
  
"I could. But don't you think that is a little excessive? An invasion of his privacy, even?"  
  
"I need to keep an eye on him when I go to my office."  
  
"Ah. Quite. I'll send someone up immediately."  
  
Angel called his thanks as Wes disappeared.  
  
He returned to Spike's room where the blonde vampire was sitting propped up in bed. Angel smiled gently at him but there was no answering one. H e seemed sadder this time around.  
  
"Look. See? Angel's brought you some tasty, delicious blood. Yum."  
  
This brought a spark of interest to his eye.  
  
"Blood" he queried hopefully.  
  
"Yes, blood." Angel replied trying to keep the hurt out of his voice. Spike still didn't know his name.  
  
Spike was trying to use his hands to hold the bag himself, which normally ended up with a messy, frustrated vampire. He was fretful and needed more company to keep him entertained. Angel thought about it. He was now about the same level as when they had all last seen him. Generally more alert and taking an interest in everything around him. Perhaps it would be safe to let them back in.  
***  
  
Fred spotted Wesley as he emerged.  
  
"So, how did it go?"  
  
Wesley shook his head but didn't want to speak about it in a public space.  
  
"Can you call Lorne and we'll all meet in Gunn's office. I'll tell you about it then."  
  
Once they had all gathered Wesley went through everything that had been said.  
  
"But that sounds great. Why all the doom and glooms?" Lorne asked.  
  
"Because I've known Angel for years and he is up to something."  
  
"So he's hiding how upset he is over Cordelia. I don't think there's much we can do there. Just give him time, man." Gunn answered.  
  
"No. Actually, I believe him when he spoke about Cordelia. He's sad but he's coming to terms with it as best he can. No it's Spike. He's hardly been down here because he didn't want to leave Spike. And he definitely wasn't keen on letting me see him."  
  
"Angel said he was sleeping," said Fred reasonably.  
  
"Yes, that's what he said. I don't know, perhaps I'm blowing this out of proportion but he never really liked...although I'm sure he would never hurt him. Not when he's in bed, injured and defenceless..."  
  
Yet, for some reason, Wesley was less than certain about this. Sometimes he felt that Angel was capable of a great deal. He would tell himself that he was naturally getting him confused with Angelus, but subconsciously he was convinced that Angel could turn into as much a monster as Angelus ever was.  
  
"Why don't you attempt to see Spike and see what happens?"  
  
***  
  
Later that day, once he'd had a security camera installed and a monitor put on his desk, Angel finally returned to work for a couple of hours. He didn't accomplish much. It was difficult to concentrate when he had to keep looking up every few seconds to make sure his boy was ok.  
  
He knew he was overcompensating. Yes, he had raped Spike's mind, as Cordelia so charmingly put it. But there had been extenuating circumstances. Spike would see that. He would understand. And look at all the care he had now. Nothing else was going to happen to Spike. Not on his watch. So he stayed with Spike, sat with him whilst he slept, talked to him constantly. He'd never opened up to anyone as much as he did to Spike in the last couple of days, although Spike didn't actually understand any of it.  
  
Part of him wished he'd just told Wes outright. He'd nearly admitted what had happened but then Wes had said he was proud of him and he hadn't wanted to lose that. Angel rested his head in his hands and tried not to think anymore. He finally picked up his pen and tried to focus on the document in front of him.  
  
Each of his friends managed to find some excuse to call in to chat. Funny. They were all remarkably determined to see Spike. All of them seemed to have taken a liking to this particular version of him. And he couldn't blame them. It was ok though. He was ready. Maybe some human food to help them relax, put them at their ease, make them less suspicious. Yeah. That would work. He picked up the phone and ordered a takeaway for the evening.  
  
***  
  
Spike lay on the bed, trying to wiggle his fingers. It was exasperating, they wouldn't move and he was fairly certain they were supposed to. He needed to be able to move, it seemed vital that he should be able to walk around like that other person did. He couldn't afford to be so weak, so powerless, so dependent. But he had to pretend. Pretend to know nothing. Give nothing away. Because if he let anything slip something bad would happen.  
  
Angel. That was his name. Sure, Angel appeared to like him. He kept him fed and looked after him. Liked him but as he was now, weak and powerless. So Spike kept his eyes blank, whilst hiding the anxiety he felt whenever Angel was in the room. Sometimes it would threaten to overwhelm him and he'd pull the covers over his head and pretend to be alone.  
  
A word occurred to him. He rolled it around his mouth.  
  
"Trust." He whispered.  
  
That was it. Mustn't trust Angel.  
  
***  
  
Lorne was the first to arrive and had thoughtfully brought along his own alcohol, which he mixed to a concoction of his own devising.  
  
"Guaranteed to bring a smile even to your face, Angelcakes." He said as he poured the colourful liquid into a glass.  
  
Angel sipped it as Lorne looked on expectantly and hoped that his pained grimace was mistaken for a smile. No such luck. Lorne poured himself one and took a careful sip. Hah! Definitely a grimace.  
  
"Mmm. You're right. A bit more Blue Curaco should do the trick."  
  
Angel wasn't fooled. Nothing, short of magic, was going to turn this into anything palatable.  
  
Fred and Wes arrived together, her hand slipped into the crook of his arm.  
  
"Can we go in?" Fred asked.  
  
Angel gave a nod and Fred gave Wesley a 'what was all the fuss about' look. They found him curled up, looking small and vulnerable in the huge bed, provided courtesy of Wolfram and Hart.  
  
"Hey, Spike." Fred said softly.  
  
Strange voices? Spike's eyes shot open. He tried to get a feeling for them.  
  
"Remember me? It's Fred. And this is Wes. We're your friends."  
  
Yes, that was the vibe he was getting. These were friends.  
  
He gave them a tentative smile and felt the full beam of Fred's dazzling grin. He didn't have much time. He could already hear those heavy footsteps coming towards the door. He turned his eyes to the one she'd called Wes.  
  
Wesley could hear Angel and was about to turn towards the door when he was suddenly caught by the intensity of Spike's gaze. His eyes were alert and watchful. Then clearly he saw Spike's mouth form words, no more than a whisper.  
  
The rest of the evening passed in a daze. Nobody seemed to notice how distracted he was. He let nothing show. He watched Spike carefully. Angel was right he hadn't improved, if anything he seemed less himself than ever. He saw he'd caught Angel's attention and smiled nervously at him. He must pay more attention. So when people laughed he joined in, he thought he might even have chipped in with one or two comments.  
  
He ordered a car to take Fred home and made his way to a phone booth. He was fairly certain that his mobile, office and home phones were bugged as a matter of course. He took out a bit of paper and dialled a number.  
  
"Hello. Rupert. Yes, it's me. I'm very well, thank you. I need your advice. I think we may have a problem. Yes. I'm afraid it's Spike..."  
  
Wesley was a troubled man. He hadn't wanted to phone Giles but who else was there? He fell into an uneasy sleep as Spike's "Help me!" echoed distressingly in his head. 'And God help me,' he thought  
  
***  
  
Angel had started to notice something. Spike's behaviour underwent a change when he was watching him on the screen, to when he was actually in the room with him. He asked for backup tapes and played them through. Yes, there Spike was watching television and laughing enthusiastically at something and suddenly his face became tense and closed off. The next second he saw himself entering the room and Spike pretending to sleep. What the hell was going on?  
  
Everything else could wait. They needed to talk.  
  
So here he was sitting uncomfortably in Spike's room, the blonde vampire refusing to make eye contact, wondering how to begin. He was part annoyed. Was pissing him off so inbred that. even when he remembered nothing else, this came to him instinctively? Mostly though, he just felt guilt. No change there then.  
  
Ok. He needed to start talking.  
  
"I know you can understand me, Spike."  
  
This caused him to turn his head away. Right. Good start, Angel.  
  
"You know I want to see you get better, don't you."  
  
He thought he heard a slight snort.  
  
"What? You don't believe me?"  
  
No reaction.  
  
"Why wouldn't I want to see you get better? Tell me. What's going on in that warped little mind of yours?"  
  
"You like me better like this." Came the soft reply.  
  
So Spike could speak. He knew it!  
  
"No. That's not true." Angel replied.  
  
Spike turned and looked at him, eyes filled with disbelief.  
  
"Well. Yeah. Maybe it is. But that's not the issue. It's not about me. It's about getting you well. I want to see you well."  
  
Spike looked doubtful.  
  
"Look. What exactly do you remember and I'll try to explain."  
  
"Don't remember anything."  
  
"There must be something. Why are you treating me like this?"  
  
"Dunno. Just a feeling. You want me to stay like this. If I don't you'll..."  
  
"I'll what? What do you think I'll do to you?" Then it hit him like a punch in the face. "You're afraid of me."  
  
"I can't feed myself. I'm helpless. And I'm dependent on you. I don't even know myself, never mind you." Spike murmured defensively, trying to divert any resulting wrath.  
  
Angel didn't look angry, just rather sad.  
  
"Would it help if I told you a bit about what's happened?"  
  
Spike nodded.  
  
"We're vampires."  
  
Again he nodded. Now that he heard the words, he found that he already knew that.  
  
"So. I kill people." He said sadly.  
  
"Did you feel like killing Gunn or Wesley or Fred last night?"  
  
"No." he replied in a puzzled voice. "No. I didn't."  
  
"You don't kill people. Not any more. You went out and won yourself a soul. You're good."  
  
"You sure?"  
  
"Yeah. I'm sure."  
  
"You're a vampire?" He asked and Angel nodded. "Do you kill people?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Well, not usually." He qualified. "I have a soul."  
  
"You went and got one, too?"  
  
"Well, actually, I got mine first." For some reason, it was important that he was clear on this point. He was the original, souled vampire.  
  
"I didn't win it though. I was cursed with it." He admitted. "So, any more questions?"  
  
"You'll tell me the truth if I ask?"  
  
"Promise. The truth, as far as I know it."  
  
"Huh. Are there many of us?"  
  
"Souled vampires? We're the only two I know of."  
  
"Why can't I remember?"  
  
"We set up a spell, if one of us says the word then you forget." Spike's answering look was filled with suspicion.  
  
"You needed it, Spike. Both of us have done stuff in the past. I've had a stint in hell and one hundred years to help me come to terms with it. But it's still all too new to you. Then you got badly hurt." He gestured to the bandaged wrists. "We thought we were going to lose you. This was the only way we could think of to help you."  
  
"Did I agree?"  
  
"Yeah..."  
  
"Then why don't I trust you?"  
  
And here it was. He'd wanted to know why Spike didn't trust him, now he had to put himself in Spike's position and try to come up with a reason. He started to think about it and...oh...where the hell to start.  
  
"It's complicated." He said.  
  
"Yeah? Well, explain it to me, real slow, then."  
  
"Ok." Angel resigned himself to it. After all he had promised. "Starting with most recently. I...uh accidentally made you lose your memory again."  
  
"So this word that makes me forget, it could accidentally slip out in casual conversation?"  
  
"No...not exactly. I was upset...I wasn't thinking...but you called me a poof!" Angel said indignantly. Spike's lips twitched.  
  
"Yeah? Now that you mention it, I look at you and that's what springs to mind." Angel looked horrified.  
  
"Nah. I mean, like a name, a title. Do I normally call you Angel?"  
  
Shake of his head.  
  
"Then what do I normally call you?"  
  
"Whatever springs to mind. Peaches, Wanker, Poof." Angel admitted.  
  
"There we are then. I didn't mean anything by it. It's almost like a pet name, a term of endearment, ain't it?"  
  
Then he laughed. "We don't like each other much, do we?"  
  
Another shake of his head.  
  
"So you were upset. You came to me. I called you a name that reminded you that we weren't the best of pals. You wanted the more pliable me back and made me forget?"  
  
Nod of the head.  
  
"So that's why I've been trying to hide any sign of return to my old self. Cus you might suddenly decide for me again and take it all away."  
  
"Perhaps." Nothing changes, Angel thought. Trust Spike to always see to the heart of things.  
  
"Well, are you? Are you going to take it away again? I can't stop you. Are you going to keep me like this forever?"  
  
"No. Of course not!" Angel denied. "Look. I am sorry. I was sorry as soon I'd done it, but it was too late then. Just give me a chance, Spike. I'll make it up to you."  
  
"So that's the 'most recently' taken care of. What else have you done to me?"  
  
"Hey. Its not all one sided you know! Do hot pokers and needle nosed pliers ring any bells with you?"  
  
Spike raised an eyebrow and Angel looked away.  
  
"Well, no. Obviously not. Well...like I said it's complicated."  
  
Oh, there goes that eyebrow again. There was no getting out of this.  
  
"Well the memory slip up might have been compounded by the fact that you've been helpless before."  
  
"Oh?"  
  
"Yeah. Broken back. Wheelchair."  
  
"And you what? Looked after me? Cared for me?"  
  
"I'd lost my soul."  
  
"Right." Spike just looked resigned. "I don't want a catalogue of things you did to me. Just tell me the worst."  
  
"Haven't we had enough honesty for one day." Angel asked awkwardly. Spike just continued to look at him. Ok, deep breath and get it over with.  
  
"I took Dru away from you. My childe. Your sire. You loved her. You'd been together for over 100 years."  
  
"She left me? After all that time? For you?"  
  
"It's the way I made her. She can't help it. She'll always be looking for her Daddy, no matter what you or I do."  
  
"Why did she stay so long with me, if she wanted you?"  
  
"Not me. The unsouled me. Angelus. When I got my soul you were her only connection to him. You became a sort of substitute, I guess."  
  
Oh no. He could have phrased that better.  
  
"You're right. Enough honesty for one day."  
  
Angel saw how upset he had become.  
  
"She did care for you, you know."  
  
"I'm hungry."  
  
He knew Spike in this mood. He'd had enough and wasn't going to hear any more.  
  
"I'll heat you up some blood."  
  
"I want proper food."  
  
"Proper?"  
  
"Yeah. I found a couple of these in the bed." He held up a Cheezy Puff. "I want some of these."  
  
***  
  
Wesley was a few minutes early but finally the phone rang. He stepped into the booth, answered it and listened carefully. He sighed in relief.  
  
"I should have thought of that. Thank you for your help, Rupert. It is very much appreciated and hopefully you won't be hearing from me again for a while. Goodbye."  
  
Angel obviously cared for Spike and Wesley wanted to trust him. Giles had eventually agreed that it was probably a one off mistake brought on by Cordelia's death. Even so they decided to take precautions.  
  
He went to a small locked room, deep within the Wolfram and Hart vaults. Three crystals glowed within a pentagon. Wesley didn't want to dismantle the spell. Instead, he carefully surrounded it with a thick circle of white powder, muttering an incantation as he did so. When that was complete he picked up the smallest crystal, put it in his shirt pocket and left.  
  
***  
  
Angel really didn't want to go. He'd had a great day following his chat with Spike. He'd sat on the bed and fed him those awful snack things. He'd tried one himself and shot off the bed retching and holding his throat. Despite the cold blood he'd gulped down he could still taste the chemicals and processed corn. Spike had found his reaction hysterical and called him a drama queen.  
  
Spike had tried to pick them out of the bag by himself and discovered he did have some slight movement in his fingers but unfortunately no feeling, so he ended up either dropping or crushing them. Angel had an idea and came in with some brightly coloured rattles.  
  
"I've still got these."  
  
Spike's look could have withered fresh, green grass.  
  
"They might help. You know...you can practise you grip."  
  
"Angel?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"How old am I?  
  
"Huh? What in vampire years?"  
  
"No. In frigging dog years. What do you think!" Spike griped.  
  
"Well Jees! No need to bite my head off. I thought you might want to include your human years. Lets think...1880...ok, about 124."  
  
"Riight that's 124 years. Not 4 sodding months!"  
  
"Alright! I just thought they might help."  
  
Spike rolled his eyes.  
  
"Where did you get these, anyway? You been stealing from babies? Thought you were good now?"  
  
Angel considered for a minute and then made a decision.  
  
"They're all that's left of my time with Connor."  
  
He waited for Spike to ask.  
  
"Connor?"  
  
"Yeah. My son."  
  
He spent the rest of the afternoon pouring out his heart to Spike, right up to the deal he'd made with Wolfram and Hart.  
  
"When I went to the room that used to be his all that was left were these, lying in the dust." Angel finished.  
  
"I'm sorry, luv."  
  
"It's okay. These things happen." Oh God, he could feel himself choking.  
  
"Yeah. Right. 'These things happen'. 'Life goes on'. 'Things will look better in the morning'." Spike quoted. "You don't need to pull all that crap with me."  
  
He saw Angel's face. "Christ! C'mere."  
  
He pulled him roughly to his shoulder.  
  
"You don't always have to pretend that everything is ok. Not here anyway."  
  
Angel allowed himself to relax into Spike's shoulder.  
  
Spike tried to pat him comfortingly. Given his returning strength and complete absence of feeling in his hands, this affectionate patting felt remarkably like being hit around the head with a shovel. Angel wriggled away from the 'comfort'.  
  
"Yeah. Cheers Spike. I feel much better now."  
  
He looked at Spike's confused face.  
  
"You did that on purpose, didn't you?"  
  
Spike gave a grin.  
  
"Git."  
  
"Yeah, well. That'll teach you to brood."  
  
"I was not brooding..." Oh honestly. What was the point.  
  
Then his phone had started to ring. He had an appointment. Really couldn't be missed. Blah, blah, blah.  
  
He called Fred and asked her to baby sit. Luckily he didn't catch the expression on Spike's face. In the end both Fred and Wes said they would come up.  
  
"They've been spending a lot of time together lately." He said to Spike.  
  
"Are you stupid?"  
  
"I'm sorry?"  
  
"I've only seen them for a couple of hours and any idiot can see they're in love."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Honestly, Angel. Just take your swirly coat and big sword and go save the day."  
  
"I wish I could. Instead I have to skank around some self-important demon. They'll be up in a moment. You've got my bleeper if you need me?"  
  
"Yeah. Stop being such a mother hen and just go will you."  
  
Spike settled back down to sleep  
  
***  
  
Angel looked at his bleeper. Spike? It stopped and he sighed in relief. Then it started again.  
  
He didn't even make his apologies but swept out of the building and began to run like the wind back to his car.  
  
Ok. There was only one way into the penthouse so he'd have to take it. The elevator doors opened.  
  
"Hello, Angel."  
  
Oh. He knew that voice and it wasn't good.  
  
"Stand down, Lawson."  
  
"Sorry chief. Can't do that."  
  
"What do you want?"  
  
"Same thing everyone wants, I guess. To understand. To have a mission. Used to be simpler in those days didn't it? On the submarine. Didn't need to understand, there was only the mission."  
  
"What do you want from me?"  
  
"Just what I'm getting? The fear in your eyes, as you wonder if they're still alive. Well? Why don't you go in and look?"  
  
Angel pushed open the door to Spike's room fearful of what he might see. Fred, Wesley and Spike were tied to chairs. They looked unhurt. Except that each of them had their heads thrown back at an awkward angle. He was about to rush towards them but found Lawson between him and his friends. He raised his hand to push him out of the way.  
  
"I wouldn't try rough housing if I was you, chief. That's piano wire around their necks. One tumble and it's..." he made a cutting sound as he drew a line across the front of his throat. "Apart from Spike, of course, who will simply poof into nothing."  
  
Angel was growing coldly angry but this vampire in front of him was right. He wasn't going to risk harming them. He decided the safest thing was to just let Lawson talk.  
  
"So you kept Spike. Yet you turned me and sent me away. There I was, no mission, no purpose, you left me with nothing. Why did you do that? I so was lost, I did all the things I thought might bring me peace. All the terrible things that a monster does—murdered women and children, tortured fathers and husbands just to hear them scream—and through it all... I felt nothing. 60 years of blood drying in my throat like ashes. So what do you think? Is it me, chief? Or does everyone you sired feel this way?"  
  
"You're the only one I ever did this to...after I got a soul." Angel replied.  
  
"Do I have one, too?"  
  
"I don't think it works that way."  
  
"You gave me just enough, didn't you? Enough of your soul to keep me trapped between who I was and who I should be. I'm nothing...because of you. And if I kill Spike and these humans it won't make things better but it would hurt you and maybe that's enough of a mission."  
  
Angel had listened enough. He picked the other man up and threw him away from Spike and his humans. Lawson crashed into a wooden framed mirror, jumped swiftly to his feet, tearing a piece of the broken frame away. Angel flew towards him and smashed a fist into his face. Lawson reeled with the blow, recovered quickly, and struck out with his bit of wood. Angel caught the movement and turned it back so the wooden fragment was now travelling inexorably towards the younger vampire's heart.  
  
"Come on chief, give me my mission." Lawson invited.  
  
Angel pushed it in and closed his eyes to keep out the dust.  
  
He carefully released each of them in turn.  
  
"You know, Angel? He really was the most peculiar vampire. It's most fascinating, supposing he did have a soul?"  
  
"I find myself overwhelmed with the not caring." Angel answered. He looked at Spike.  
  
"No one messes with..." he just managed to prevent himself from saying 'what's mine' changing it to "...my friends."  
  
"But that could have been Spike only a year ago. He seemed so close to finding something."  
  
Angel looked at him. How could he put it so Wes would understand? He didn't give a damn as long as Spike himself was safe.  
  
"Wes, I understand what you're saying but I was in the middle of a situation and I wasn't going to risk any of you. Frankly, I don't give a damn. If anyone hurts you," he gave a quick glance towards Spike, "I'll kill them."  
  
He was so matter fact it made Wesley shudder. Fred, however was giving Angel a quick hug.  
  
"Thank you. I knew we could trust you to come to our rescue."  
  
Spike was curiously quiet and Angel put it down to shock. Once the other two had left he tried to help Spike back to the bed.  
  
"S'okay, I can manage to totter that far."  
  
"So...you alright?"  
  
"Don't like being so sodding helpless that's all."  
  
Angel sat on the bed next to him and cradled him kissing him gently on the head.  
  
"Don't worry littl'un. You're getting stronger all the time. Just go to sleep."  
  
"Don't think I'll be sleeping much tonight."  
  
"Do you want some hot milk? I've heard that it's a soporific, it might help?"  
  
"Angel."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"I'm leaving."  
  
"What?" he started to laugh. "Don't be an idiot, you're not strong enough to go anywhere."  
  
"Ok. Soon as I'm strong enough, I'm leaving."  
  
"But...I like having you here!"  
  
"Why? You got big plans for me have you? Decided what university you want me to go to? Shall we go fly a kite? Perhaps we can play model railways?"  
  
"What the hell is this?"  
  
"Who am I, Angel?"  
  
Angel looked at him fondly.  
  
"You're my boy. My child."  
  
"I am a 124 year old vampire."  
  
"Yeah. That too."  
  
"I am not Connor."  
  
"I never said you were."  
  
"I do not play with rattles, I do not need baby sitters and I do not drink warm milk."  
  
"I never..."  
  
"Yeah, Angel. You did. And it sounds like I've already wasted a hundred years being a poor substitute for someone else. It's not going to happen again."  
  
"You're not a substitute!"  
  
"I suppose I can count myself lucky that you at least remembered to feed me blood instead of bottles of formula milk."  
  
"Don't be so melodramatic, Spike. You are not a substitute and you are not leaving, That's final."  
  
"Is that right? Daddy. You don't own me, you know."  
  
Angel suddenly seemed to deflate.  
  
"No I don't. No more than you own me. But don't go Spike. I can make this right again. I can fix it."  
  
"No, Angel you can't. Thing is I want this. I want to be here...with you. Its too tempting. That's why I have to go."  
  
"Well that made no frigging sense at all. Just go back to bed, Spike."  
  
"And you say you don't handle me like a human child! Bloody hell, Angel! What do I have to do to make you see, how you're treating me?"  
  
"Is it so bad?"  
  
"I need to be loved for myself, not as a reflection of someone else. You haven't really been considering me in all this, have you?"  
  
"Of course I have. Every thought I have I relate back to you. I'm fighting and wishing you were there to help me, or laughing and thinking how much it would amuse you!" Angel felt so frustrated. It was as though Spike had already made up his mind and wasn't really hearing what he was saying.  
  
"Don't leave me, Spike."  
  
"I have to. You know, I think I know why the old me hated you."  
  
"Go on."  
  
"Because if I let myself love you, it would break me when you let me down."  
  
"What makes you think I'd let you down?"  
  
"I just get the impression that you always do."  
  
"You're not going to leave me Spike. I'll prove that I think of you as yourself, as an equal and as a vampire."  
  
"I'm leaving."  
  
"Why won't you listen! Give me one last chance, please? Trust me?"  
  
"Trust you!"  
  
"You are not going to leave me, Spike."  
  
"Really? And how do you plan to stop me. I just make a call and Wes or Fred or Gunn would get me away from here."  
  
Angel's eyes gleamed and Spike suddenly caught on.  
  
"You sodding well dare! You do not have my permission."  
  
Angel shook his head and gave his pleading puppy dog look.  
  
"Just one last time, Spike. Let me put it right. I promise to get it right this time."  
  
"Don't do it, Angel. For your sake as well as mine."  
  
Just a shake of the head.  
  
Followed by a single solitary word.  
  
"See. I had to do it, Spike. I can't lose you now. I promise I'll remember you're a vampire this time but you'll always be my childe. So feed, childe."  
  
He gouged his neck over the main artery and brought Spike towards it. He smiled as Spike automatically vamped out, just like the first time with the blood bag. He felt his lips on the wound and then the rush as Spike sucked down Sire blood.  
  
"I'm sorry. You're right I forgot what you were. I should have done this right from the start. Drink deep. It will help you heal."  
  
***  
  
Wesley felt a slight warmth in his shirt pocket. He took out the crystal and regarded it with apprehension. He prayed there had been a mistake as he raced down to the vault. The powder circle was still intact but it had been distorted as though swept out of shape by a draught or a breeze. He could feel the tension stiffening his shoulders and making his neck ache. He walked slowly to the telephone booth and made the call he'd hoped that he'd never have make.  
  
"Rupert. It's happened." He hung up and went back to his office to wait.  
  
***  
  
Spike seemed very wakeful and restless even hours after feeding.  
  
"You can't sleep? It's the blood. It's given you energy. Do you want me to put you to sleep, vampire fashion?"  
  
Spike just stared back at him and Angel sighed.  
  
"Its ok Spike, however it turns out this time, I promise, I'll never do it again. I'll dismantle the damned spell tomorrow."  
  
It was almost as if Spike understood. He relaxed slightly and his head dropped to one side, exposing his neck.  
  
"Are you sure about this, I mean a nice glass of milk might do the trick."  
  
Spike's look seemed to so clearly say 'wanker' that Angel started to laugh.  
  
"Ok. Trust me, Spike. I'll look after you. I'm not going to hurt you and I'm not going to let you go. So sleep. Vampire style."  
  
He nuzzled into Spike's neck and delicately pierced the skin. It tasted so good. It danced on his tongue and enervated every cell. This is what he'd been missing all those years. Then too his amazement he could feel the old bond open up, the blood link. He had forgotten about this. It had been so long since he'd shared blood with family. He knew what Spike was feeling and it was happiness...contentment. This went beyond his wildest dreams, it was bliss, it was beyond words. He was beginning to believe that he could make this work. He stroked a hand through Spike's hair and let the blood flow down his throat, teasing the wound to keep it open, until he finally felt Spike's limbs grow heavy and relaxed. He licked the wound to staunch the flow of blood and was so distracted that he didn't hear the door open behind him. The next minute his world went black.  
  
When Angel swam back to consciousness, he was still lying on Spike's bed.  
  
Spike was gone.  
  
His boy was gone.  
  
Angel let out a howl of anguish.  
  
***  
  
Wesley heard the howl even down in his office, where he'd been sitting, alone and apprehensive. Once Spike was safe he was supposed to go up to Angel and talk to him reasonably. After all Angel was good, Angel was reasonable, he'd never hurt his friends. Wesley realised he'd made a huge miscalculation, anyone who laid a finger on Spike was no longer a friend. Angel was fiercely possessive. He remembered how he'd reacted when Lawson had threatened them. Suddenly Wesley was very, very afraid. His heart was racing and he knew with the certainty of a hunted animal that he needed to get away.  
  
***  
  
Who would take his childe away? Who would do that? Hell did he even need to ask. He growled to himself.  
  
"Wesley."  
  
He pressed the button for the elevator but it was already in use. Going down. He carefully scented the elevator shaft and caught the stench of fear. So the traitor thought he could run.  
  
Wesley ran from the elevator to the welcoming darkness outside. If he could just make it to his car, if he...but there lounging indolently against the exit was Angel. His heart contracted in fear.  
  
"How did you..." he stuttered.  
  
Angel looked up the side of the building and said nonchalantly, "I took the short way down."  
  
"You going somewhere, Wes?"  
  
Suddenly he had Wesley pushed up against the side with his neck in a stranglehold.  
  
"Tell me, Human, how many times must I strangle you before you learn not to touch what's mine?" he snarled. 


	5. Loss

Disclaimer: Nope, still not mine. Joss's and ME's. Hope they don't mind me playing with them. I'll give them all back at the end...if I must.  
  
Summary: Everyone has to deal with the aftermath of Spike's abduction and some decisions are made.  
  
Chapter 5  
  
Loss  
  
Three people manhandled Spike's body into a waiting black van. Two of them appeared abnormally strong for their slight build. They were dressed in black, with black ski masks pulled over their faces but once they were all inside these were swiftly removed, revealing that the two with the unusual strength were mere girls. The third person, a young man, rapped sharply on the dividing panel to let the driver know they were safely stowed and the van pulled away.  
  
"Where to now?" Fair-haired girl asked.  
  
"We have a safe house near here, where we should be...safe." The young man tailed off slightly, aware that he'd started strong but the ending was weak.  
  
"Do you think he'll come looking for us?"  
  
"I don't know. But have no fear the evil vampyre cannot win. We have right on our side."  
  
The dark haired girl pulled a face. "When has that ever helped us before?" she asked.  
  
She'd already seen action. Not all of it successful.  
  
"Ah yes, but we now have the vampyre hero. Our inspiration, our secret weapon."  
  
Neither girl had anything to say to this. They had all heard Andrew's stories about 'Spike, the warrior vampyre', who took on gods and won. If even half the stories were true then he would be a formidable ally. They looked on this sleeping legend with respect.  
  
After a short journey they pulled into a garage. Spike was on an ambulance style trestle bed, so this time they picked up the bed instead of manoeuvring Spike around bodily. They wheeled him into the house, where Giles greeted them and directed them to a specially prepared basement.  
  
"Yes. That's fine. Just put him over there will you."  
  
For the first time they were finally able to take a proper look at the prone figure they had rescued. He appeared pale even for a vampire and the wound in his neck stood out viciously against the pallor of his skin.  
  
"The fiend was draining him dry. I had to drag him away or I swear he'd be dead." Said Fair-haired  
  
"Really Erica, I don't believe vampires can be destroyed by blood loss. In fact I have the distinct memory of Spike himself saying that vampires who don't feed become living skeletons."  
  
However, this did not seem to offer quite the reassuring note he was aiming for. The others seemed more horrified at this than at the thought of death.  
  
Andrew's eyes began to prick with tears. He knelt next to the bed and laid his hand on the unmoving chest saying softly, "I would follow you, my brother, my captain, my king."  
  
Giles removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. The boy meant well but he was a romantic, with an unhealthy dose of hero worship for the blonde vampire. Unfortunately, he was also infecting the slayers with it. Giles wanted to yell at them 'For Godsake, it's only Spike." In fact, he actually wished Xander were here to help give a bit of balance. Never mind. One works with the tools one is given.  
  
***  
  
"You've got one chance, traitor. Tell me what you've done with him."  
  
Wesley let out a choking sound and Angel loosened his grip slightly to allow him to speak.  
  
"I...I don't know where he is."  
  
"Uh. Uh. Wrong answer." He allowed his face to change and let his canines trail lightly down one side of the neck, leaving a thin line of blood. This seemed to bring out some deep reserves of courage within Wesley. He was not going to plead or beg or cry. Seeing Angel like this he was more convinced than ever that he had done the right thing.  
  
"Stop this foolishness!" Wesley rasped fiercely.  
  
"There's only one way to stop this. Tell me where he is."  
  
"In that case, just do it." His voice was cold and determined and he lifted his head to bare his throat. "Because I'll never tell you."  
  
"So you have a backbone? Now's not the time to grow one...maybe, I should rip it out. What do you think?"  
  
"It doesn't matter how you threaten me. I won't let you hurt Spike again."  
  
"Hurt? What's that supposed to mean?"  
  
"Don't play this game, Angel."  
  
Suddenly a sharp voice cut through their fight.  
  
"Move away from Wesley!"  
  
Fred was standing there her eyes fierce and her face determined.  
  
"Fred! Run!" Wesley urged, a note of panic entering his voice.  
  
"Go away, Fred. It's not your concern." Angel said grimly.  
  
"Yes. It is." She produced something from behind her back. A gun.  
  
Angel laughed quietly.  
  
"You should know better than that!" He thought for a second, carefully evaluating her, "You do know better than that...what's with the gun, Fred? Does it fire little wooden stakes?"  
  
Her hand was shaking.  
  
"Don't come any closer!"  
  
"I don't want to hurt you, Fred. You know you don't want to hurt me. Just drop it." He moved towards her, allowing his human visage to appear. His hands were half raised, indicating that he had no weapon, which was hardly reassuring since he had more naturally inherent armament available to him.  
  
There was a movement behind her and Gunn was at her side, backing her up, a stake-loaded crossbow in hand.  
  
"Perhaps she can't bring herself to hurt you. How about me? Do you think I wouldn't? Vampire."  
  
And this was pure, old Gunn, the one that lost his only sister to vampires. Angel turned his attention to Gunn. When. Whack! There was a flash of pain across his jaw. He twisted back towards Wesley in anger.  
  
"No!" Fred shouted and fired the gun. Angel looked down in disbelief at the tiny tranquillizer dart and raised accusing eyes to her, before falling unconscious for the second time that night.  
  
"What do we do with him now?" asked Gunn.  
  
"Whatever it is we'd better hurry. He's not going to stay down for long." Fred replied,  
  
"Right. Gunn, help me take him up to his room. Fred in my office you'll find some handcuffs and chains will you bring them, please. Their strength has been enhanced, I...I felt that I should be prepared. And thank you." He looked at Fred. "You were incredible. You were both incredible."  
  
Fred gave him a hug, saying, "Thank God you're alright. For a second there I thought I was going to lose you"  
  
She stroked a hand through his hair, then quickly disentangled herself and turned back into the building.  
  
"What are friends for if not to turn up in the nick of time and throw themselves recklessly at crazy vamps?" Gun asked with his quirky grin.  
  
"He's not crazy. He's grieving. And how did you manage to arrive so promptly?"  
  
"We've been keeping an eye on you. Fred was with you the other night when Spike asked for help. She thought she'd misheard, but you acted all weirded out and secretive, so she brought me in on it. We've had someone watching you ever since. Next time do us a favour and just tell us. You trust us don't you?"  
  
"Yes, of course I do. I also knew how Angel would react. I didn't want you or Fred getting hurt so I didn't involve you. Fat lot of good it did me. Seriously though, I am very grateful. He'd never have forgiven himself if he'd killed me."  
  
"'Never have forgiven himself'? You are one strange guy. As for the rescue? No problem. You'd do the same for me if I was in trouble."  
  
"Still. Thank you."  
  
***  
  
Giles considered the sleeping vampire with very mixed feelings. Quite simply, he didn't know how to react to this development. When Andrew had told him of the vampire's return he had been, at first, incredulous, Andrew tended to view the world in his own unique way. But the slayers had confirmed the sighting, when Spike had been carried away, sans hands. Or to be more accurate hands next to him in an ice box.  
  
One of the problems Giles was wrestling with was that Spike had been brought back from the dead and nobody had any idea who did it or why. When he had sacrificed himself to save the world Giles had finally accepted that he was good. But one couldn't necessarily assume he was still on their side, people had a habit of coming back from the dead twisted or changed in someway. This made him an unknown quantity. Wesley said he fought for the forces of good but, in Giles opinion, the younger man's judgement was seriously lacking. He was compromised as an independent source of information...he was far too familiar and trusting of Angel and had obviously expanded this goodwill to include Spike. Besides which, he now worked for Wolfram and Hart, who could well have their own agenda in all this. Personally, Giles could not bring himself to fully trust any of them. He couldn't afford to, there were too many people who looked to him and so many ways he could get it wrong.  
  
However, one thing he was sure about was that Spike had been the focus of much attention. The power required to bring him back, with both soul and demon intact, left him flabbergasted. It must be an indication that, for good or bad, Spike still had an important role to play and he'd rather have Spike here, under his nose, where he could maybe exert some influence on him.  
  
Another consideration was their lack of knowledgeable advisors and teachers since the attack on the Council's headquarters. If Spike stayed he would be invaluable in training the slayers. Weighing up the pros and cons Giles had to admit the benefits of having Spike with them were immense. The new slayers needed practical experience against a vampire of his calibre. Although, he wouldn't be up for much until he'd fed and healed. Giles wondered what on earth had caused Angel to turn on the younger vampire in such a manner. There again, he had spent some considerable time in close proximity to this irritating demon and he could almost understand Angel's action. After all, he himself had once been complicit in trying to arrange Spike's final demise. That, of course, had been under entirely different circumstances. However, Giles still felt uneasy about his part in it. But all one can do is what one believes is right at the time.  
  
He hoped Spike would also see it that way.  
  
Giles could recall when Spike first became 'chipped' and the vampire's dismay when he realised that he was unable to hurt living things. At that moment, Giles had a premonition that this punk vampire would turn out to be important. He'd tried to reassure Spike that it hadn't been random bad luck (good luck from the Scoobies' point of view, of course) but had purpose behind it. Spike had merely scoffed at the idea in his normal infuriating manner. Giles had given up on Spike at that point. Now he had been proven right in the most inconvenient manner. Or possibly convenient, Giles withheld judgement.  
  
The contradictory emotions he felt when gazing on Spike's familiar form were confusing but he had the typical English person's distrust of self- analysis. He was also tired and there was too much he couldn't bring himself to think about at the moment. Even so, a traitorous thought slipped into his mind and wouldn't leave him alone, 'Buffy'.  
  
Currently Buffy didn't know that Spike was back, but for how long? There were two teenage girls in the house and soon Spike could be training and working with other slayers. One thing these slayers had in common with every other teenage girl was their ability to gossip. Despite what he or Spike might want, he had no doubt that it would end up out of their hands.  
  
Another thing that niggled at him - the only males the slayers currently associated with, within their elite group, were himself and Andrew. He looked at Spike's face, innocent and reposed in sleep and his slim, muscled body and had an awful feeling that Spike's appearance would hit them like a bombshell.  
  
***  
  
Angel found it difficult to move. He opened his eyes and found his hand and feet had been tightly shackled. Then it all came back to him as he focused on the human in front of him.  
  
"You took him. If you've hurt him I'll..." He strained violently against his bonds and collapsed back when they refused to give.  
  
"You'll what?" Wesley snapped back and then ran his fingers through his hair, annoyed at himself for his flash of temper. "Of course I didn't hurt him, Angel. I did it for the best."  
  
"You always do. Did you find a prophecy? Were you waiting for the sign that I was about to destroy him?"  
  
"Waiting? I already had the sign."  
  
"You say that like it means something but I don't know what you're talking about."  
  
"You were keeping him helpless, Angel."  
  
"I was not keeping him helpless! I was keeping him...I was keeping him. I did it for the best."  
  
"Whose best?"  
  
"Everyone's. Mine. His. It was just getting better and then you...you had no right!"  
  
"I had every right. He begged me to help him."  
  
"I don't believe you." Angel muttered, "He was happy!"  
  
"When we all came to visit, that night he asked me to help him. He was afraid of you Angel. Can you deny that?"  
  
"We talked, we were over that!"  
  
"You think one little chat makes everything miraculously right?"  
  
"Yes. He trusted me. I said I'd look after him and you stole him."  
  
"So he trusted you. And what? He asked you to take his memories away again?"  
  
Angel said nothing.  
  
"I take it that means Spike voiced an objection?"  
  
Again, no answer.  
  
"So you have nothing to say about Spike. Tell me instead about Cordelia, who gave you 'the gift of her last day' to try and set you on the right path."  
  
"Don't bring her into this."  
  
"When you betray her memory, she becomes part of it. What do you think she would say?"  
  
Angel shut his eyes to escape for a few seconds, he felt so incredibly tired. It had gone from perfect to...this, in such a short space of time. Except...who was he fooling? It had not been perfect it had been something temporary and artificial that he'd forced on to his childe. If Spike had been anything close to resembling his normal self, he would never have allowed the intimacy of the blood exchange.  
  
Wesley sighed.  
  
"Just talk to me, Angel. If you would just talk to me, instead of leaping straight into action, things would be so much easier."  
  
Angel was stung into answering.  
  
"You say that too me! Why didn't you talk to me? You just assumed...you're always so quick to mistrust me."  
  
"I wanted to trust you! The first time you did it I it put down as an accident but to do it twice...I don't think there is anything you could say to convince me that you had his best intentions at heart."  
  
"You wouldn't understand."  
  
"Probably not. But you could always try me."  
  
"We're vampires."  
  
"I'm fully aware of that."  
  
"You know it but you don't understand it. We still have demons inside us...it makes us...different. I fight it, we both did but there are certain things we need."  
  
"Power and violence. I'm not totally ignorant of these things."  
  
"I was talking about family and love."  
  
"Oh. Well, how would I know these things if you refuse to share them? It's certainly not covered in the Watchers' Diaries."  
  
"Why should it be? All you need to know is how to kill us. But you, Wesley, are unique. You keep discovering new methods with which to destroy me." The defeated vampire said bitterly  
  
"I'm not a mind reader, Angel. If you neglect to tell me certain things, you can hardly cast blame when misunderstandings occur. If you want me to help you, then explain to me, make me understand."  
  
"You want to know? Then understand this, demons are possessive and protective. When everything else is stripped away, you are 'my' humans and Spike is 'my' childe and if anything of mine is threatened my instinct is to take the aggressor apart piece by piece."  
  
Wesley didn't react to being claimed in this manner, he already suspected how Angel thought of them. However, Spike...  
  
"Spike is your childe? I thought Drusilla..."  
  
"She turned him but she couldn't teach him or train him or protect him. It was down to me. I became his Sire and took on all the responsibilities of Sire. I was held accountable for him therefore he was my childe. He is my childe."  
  
"You weren't jealous that she chose another male companion?"  
  
"No. I never considered it in that light. She brought him home and presented him to me like a gift, all shiny and new. Darla was away and I was happy to have a male companion, a sane companion. He was mine right from the start, he just never realised it."  
  
"So what happened next? When did he start to realise he was bound to you?"  
  
Angel wasn't sure if he really wanted to tell this story but nothing seemed to matter. Tell or not tell? Who really cared about things that happened in another world and another time?  
  
"He didn't understand how things were. I accepted him from the beginning, told him he was my companion, my friend. William seemed grateful and Angelus...I mean, 'I', thought he understood the implication. But nothing was ever easy with Will. One night I invited him to join me on a hunt and he refused. He thought it would please Dru if he joined her, so he abandoned me. He didn't understand that his first duty should be to me."  
  
"I ordered the carriage to turn immediately for home, he was on foot, so I arrived first. Dru was overjoyed that her Daddy had returned early, just for her. She was so happy nothing could have torn her from my arms that night. When William returned, he walked in on us, as I'd planned. He was devastated, accused me of betraying him. He tried to command Dru but she obeyed only me. He attacked me. He thought he'd lost everything that night, my friendship and Dru's affection. I beat him easily and played my master card. I offered him Dru, whilst never releasing her from my arms. He realised that if he wanted her, he had to come through me, everything would be on my terms. He couldn't walk away from us. Like all vampires, he needed his family, he thought that would be Dru, instead it became Angelus. It became me."  
  
Wesley said nothing.  
  
"Are you shocked?"  
  
"Truthfully? Yes. I don't find this very reassuring, you trapped him...blackmailed him into accepting you. Is that what you're trying to do now, weaken him so much that he just accepts you?" Wes asked his eyes troubled.  
  
"No. And I wasn't trying to reassure you, I was telling you how it was. How it still is, for both of us, because it works both ways. Yesterday Spike accused me of using him as a substitute for...someone else, accused me of thinking I owned him. But he owns me as much as I own him. I tried to tell him this but he wasn't listening. Believe me, if Spike had left then, he would have spent the rest of his life trying to fill this hole, accepting compromises and substitutes but never finding what was missing, never even knowing what was missing. So I used the spell, one last attempt to make his see what was under his nose."  
  
"You of all people should know that it's not always a question of right and wrong, but trying to balance different shades of wrong. I knew what followed might all be for nothing once he remembered everything but at least it would give us a starting point. It seemed worth the risk, so I said the word, he lost his memory and he accepted me back"  
  
"He didn't."  
  
"You weren't there. I felt his contentment, his acceptance."  
  
"You misunderstand. I meant he didn't lose his memory. I put a ward around the spell, it would alert me if you attempted to use it again but it wouldn't actually work if you did try it."  
  
Angel had known there had been something different about Spike this time, the understanding he appeared to exhibit, which Angel had put down to wishful thinking on his part. His boy had taken him back! Spike knew the worst of him, his possessiveness, his lies, his need, and yet had accepted him, flaws and all. Had accepted him, accepted his blood and in turn bared his neck to Angel, re-opening the blood link between them. Angel would have kicked himself, if he hadn't been so tightly manacled. He should of thought of their bond earlier. He reached towards it and managed to get a shadowy impression of Spike, he focused on it and then withdrew in shock. He remembered Spike saying that if he gave into love and Angel let him down, it would destroy him.  
  
"You have to release me. I need to go to him. You have to tell me where he is!"  
  
"I can't. You've compromised too much of yourself for this. Your honesty. Your integrity. It reminds me of when Darla became human. You've become blinkered to everything except what you want to see. It's not good, Angel. Not for you and nor for us. It makes you unpredictable."  
  
"You don't understand, Wes. I can feel him! He let down all his defences and let me in. Now he thinks I've abandoned him again and it's killing him."  
  
"I...don't know what to say. You realise I don't altogether trust you?" Wesley asked.  
  
"I've told you the truth!" In fact he'd poured out everything that was in his heart. His brows contracted in suspicion, "Why have I told you so much? Is there some other magic at work besides the cuffs? What have you done to me?"  
  
"I haven't 'done' anything. Fred said it would be a side effect of the tranquillizer – it would loosen you up, make you talkative."  
  
Angel thought back on everything he said and could only be grateful that at least he had managed not to reveal anything about Connor. Just Spike.  
  
"Will you tell me where he is? Please. He needs me."  
  
Wesley was deep in thought and then appeared to come to a decision. He nodded at Angel.  
  
"I am not at all reconciled with what you did to Spike but I will telephone my contact. We'll ask Spike and if he wishes to return or wishes to see you then I'll help you."  
  
"Thank you, Wes."  
  
"I don't want your thanks. I'm doing this for Spike."  
  
***  
  
Spike awoke and looked around in confusion.  
  
He could feel something at the very edge of his sensory perception. Possibly a noise like metal grating on metal at high speed, or maybe a smell, nettles and bitter herbs. Whatever it was he found it vaguely distressing.  
  
The last he remembered was falling asleep in his Sire's arms, happy and sated. The healing properties of Sire blood working its magic on his hands as he felt his fingers tingle with returning feeling. Now, he was lying in a dark basement on a hard bed, feeling confused and disorientated. He didn't have a clue what was happening but the feeling of abandonment and loss felt too familiar. He tried to focus logically on what had happened.  
  
One: His sire had unsuccessfully tried to put the memory whammy on him again.  
  
Two: Angel had knocked him out cold with the blood-drinking thing and.  
  
Three: Here he was, alone.  
  
He began to get a cold feeling in his stomach. He remembered his instinctive not to trust Angel. This now gnawed at him. The more he dwelt on it the more convinced he became that Angel was playing some game, toying with him, gaining his trust and betraying him. These thought battered him like physical blows. He took his hurt and turned it into anger, He really felt like killing something, maybe himself or preferably something about 6' 1" in height, brown puppy dog eyes and really stupid hair.  
  
He heard the door and could clearly see two men walking towards him...or one man and one boy.  
  
"Spike, you're awake! How are you?" The boy asked.  
  
"Uh. Alright." he replied noncommittally.  
  
"Oh. You don't remember me? We're friends, almost partners...well, we've worked together. I was there the night that slayer cut off your hands." He raised his eyes as though thinking through something complicated, "Well not exactly there, in the room with you because, I was sort of unconscious at the time and you left me to chase after her, which, you know, is fine. You have to put duty before friendship, I mean it's what makes you a hero, after all. It reminds me of..."  
  
Didn't humans have to breathe? He sent the older man a pleading look, who thankfully seemed to understand and cut the boy short.  
  
"Ahem. I think Spike is probably wondering how he came to be here? Aren't you?"  
  
Spike nodded.  
  
"We rescued you." The boy said waiting from approval.  
  
"Yeah? From what?"  
  
"That fiend. He was trying to turn you into a living skeleton!"  
  
The boy was obviously crazy. Spike looked again towards the older man for a slightly more sane explanation.  
  
"Yes. Well. In essence Andrew is correct. Wesley contacted us regarding your plight and when Angel attempted the spell again we knew you were no longer safe. We came for you last night and he, apparently, was draining you whilst you slept."  
  
His murderous intentions receded as was suffused by a familiar feeling. Yeah, he definitely recognised this one. It was called 'Spike cocks up again.' He had asked for help and he'd never got a chance to let Wesley know that he was ok after all, so the man had sent these people to 'rescue' him. Then he wondered why Angel hadn't stopped them.  
  
"Is Angel ok?"  
  
Giles had talked with Wesley earlier. Angel was upset but not physically hurt.  
  
"He's fine."  
  
"Oh."  
  
Spike was frowning.  
  
"So you came for me and he just let me go."  
  
"Umm, more or less." Andrew replied, thinking of Angel knocked out by the first blow.  
  
"He certainly didn't put up any significant objections." He grinned in what he thought was a cold and deadly Tarantino-esque manner. Spike wondered if he was troubled by wind.  
  
"Uh huh. So he didn't try to persuade you to let me stay?"  
  
"Not a word of protest." Andrew replied. He sensed Spike's concern for the older vampire and was reluctant to admit outright how they had dealt with him. Thus his answers were carefully considered and, like a politician, he ensured he answered honestly, whist remaining economical with the truth.  
  
"And you're sure he's ok?"  
  
Giles attempted to reassure him.  
  
"I spoke to Wesley only this morning and Angel is fine."  
  
Spike didn't look reassured, he looked a little sad.  
  
"Oh." What a surprise. All that talk about looking after him and never letting him go was just that. Talk.  
  
"So you rescued me. Thanks. Yeah. And let that be a lesson, never trust a fat vampire with foofy hair."  
  
Andrew was looking confused at the twists and turns of this conversation. Giles appeared to understand more than he was admitting. From the look on Spike's face the 'rescue' had been an unwanted intrusion, which could work out in their favour. He wrestled with his conscience and found he couldn't deceive this miserable vampire.  
  
"He wants to speak to you."  
  
"No."  
  
"It's entirely up to you but he would like you to return."  
  
"What am I? A sodding boomerang? He throws me away and then waits for me to come racing back? What is it with him?"  
  
"You could always talk to him and find out." Giles said reasonably.  
  
"Giles, I don't think you should pressurise him. Why should he talk? Angel is nothing to him. Well, I suppose he is a sort of a relative, like a grandfather or should that be 'grandsire' or something...and they do go way back and..."  
  
"Andrew, do be quiet. Spike, we would like you to stay here, to be frank, we need you. We could give you back a purpose, perhaps even a reason for continuing."  
  
"So you're offering me...what? What do you do here? What would you expect from me? Because I don't make tea and I don't do phones."  
  
"I assure you we have a suitable job for someone of your talents. But it's rather complicated to explain."  
  
"People seem to be saying that to me quite a lot recently."  
  
"Yes. Well. This would be so much easier if you could remember. However, I shall give you the potted version, if you don't mind?"  
  
Spike nodded.  
  
"Recently, to help save the world, we empowered many young women with above human strength and endurance. Previously, there was one in each generation with the power, whose duty it was to fight the vampires and demons. Now there are many. These girls are called slayers. They don't just inherit increased strength, speed and agility. They also have some psychic ability. Many are afflicted with violent images of past slayers. Others have premonitions, slight visionary powers. It's all very disturbing for them."  
  
"We are attempting to trace all these slayers and train them, guide them and, where they are willing, set them against the evil demons and monsters of the world. We need someone who can teach them but also has the strength to control them, where necessary. Occasionally these slayers go bad. Your hands...that atrocity was committed by a mentally unstable slayer, so I can understand if you would rather not deal with them. However, you are already regarded as something of a hero, so you have an advantage. They already respect you and fear you."  
  
"Fear?"  
  
"You have been evil for many years. In the past you killed two slayers. Many of these modern day slayers have had your image seared in their brain by these slayer memories that come to them."  
  
"Oh. Don't you think this might be a slight problem?"  
  
"I have to admit, I really don't know. William the Bloody reformed? On the whole I think they regard you in the light of a miracle."  
  
"Is that who I am?"  
  
"No, not really. I don't think you've been him for years. Maybe you haven't quite found out who you are yet and maybe this is the place to find out. Will you stay? You're very much needed. What have you got if you go back?"  
  
"I don't know." Spike replied quietly.  
  
"Well perhaps you should talk to him and find out."  
  
Spike looked at him in suspicion.  
  
"Why do you want me to talk to him?"  
  
"I know you probably find this strange coming from me, but this time I am doing my best to play fair with you, Spike. Even if it is to the detriment of my own work."  
  
"I see. We didn't part the best of friends, I take it?"  
  
"I met you when you were one of the most feared vampires in the annals of history. Things happened and I found trust doesn't come easily to me."  
  
"Huh. Did I have any friends at all?"  
  
Andrew stepped forward clearing his throat.  
  
"I would like to think that we became, if not friends then certainly comrades, brothers-in-arm with mutual respect of each other's abilities. We learnt from one another. For instance, although you're not tall, you're kind of menacing and did you notice I now have a really cool coat just like yours?"  
  
Spike regarded him with incomprehension and then sent Giles a bewildered look, clearly begging for some sort of translation.  
  
"What did he say?"  
  
But Giles had already turned away, shaking his head and muttering, "Good grief."  
  
Spike knew the feeling.  
  
"I was just saying. I'm your friend...if you want?"  
  
"Oh. Cheers. " Spike replied trying to keep the shades of doubt out of his voice and when the boy began to grin inanely he guessed he'd succeeded.  
  
Giles determinedly brought the conversation back on track.  
  
"Anyway Spike you don't have to make an immediate decision about anything but if you do with to talk to Angel just say the word. Meanwhile, have you got any more questions we can help with?"  
  
"Yeah. What is that noise? And can you make it stop?"  
  
"Noise? I can't hear anything." Andrew said and looked to Giles to back him up.  
  
"No. I'm afraid I can't hear it either. But it's not surprising. Your hearing is much more sensitive than ours."  
  
They retreated to give him time to consider his next action. However, he could hear their conversation. Andrew was saying that they needed him and mustn't let him go. Giles replied that if Spike were to work with them it would be, knowing all the facts and of his own free will. He pointed out to Andrew that they were not evil.  
  
Spike gave it some careful thought. He recalled all he could about Angel, Connor, Wolfram and Hart, Wesley, Gunn and Fred until he had it clear in his mind.  
  
He called to the two humans, "Ok I'll speak to him."  
  
***  
  
After Wesley's assurance that he would contact Spike, Angel became calmer and was finally able to convince them that he was no longer out for their blood. Even so, they each had crosses and holy water hidden discreetly, and not so discreetly, about their person, as they nervously unlocked the shackles.  
  
Wesley was as good as his word. Later that morning he had some good news.  
  
"Angel. The phone. It's him."  
  
Angel took it, trying to hide his apprehension.  
  
"Hi."  
  
Spike sounded muted, contained.  
  
"Hello? Spike? Thank God it's you! Are you alright?"  
  
"Yeah. You?"  
  
"What do you think? Look. Tell me where you are and I'll come and pick you up."  
  
"Uh huh. Why?"  
  
"Because this is where you belong, of course!"  
  
"Yesterday you let them take me away and today you want me back. You always this indecisive, mate?"  
  
"I didn't exactly 'let them'."  
  
"Didn't object much, I hear."  
  
"Object? They knocked me out cold. When I came around you were gone. I think I went a little insane."  
  
"Oh. You didn't hurt any of them, did you?"  
  
Silence.  
  
"Angel? They're ok? Wesley is ok, yeah?"  
  
"Yes. Fred and Gunn managed to stop me. Spike? Let me bring you home."  
  
"Tell me, what would I do there?"  
  
"Do?"  
  
"Uh huh."  
  
"You'd do the same as before - save people. You have...oh."  
  
"What?"  
  
"You used to have a seer, you know a contact with higher powers and they would direct you whoever needed rescuing. But..."  
  
"For Chrissake! Will you just tell me?"  
  
Angel sighed and continued.  
  
"It wasn't real. It was all an intricate conspiracy to get to me."  
  
"So, I ask again what would I do there?"  
  
"You could work for Wolfram and Hart."  
  
"Aren't they the evil law firm that suckered you in, using Connor as bait?"  
  
"Well, yeah."  
  
"And you want me trapped there too? You make tasty bait, Sire. But I'm not biting."  
  
"I...you don't have to do anything."  
  
"So. I can return and I could hang around the apartment each day. Doing what? Waiting for you to come home?"  
  
Spike took a breath and continued.  
  
"Or I could stay here.  
  
"Stay there? Where are you?"  
  
"Where I'm wanted and needed. Where I have a reason for existence."  
  
Angel remembered Lawson, going insane from his lack of a mission and knew he had no argument against this. Spike needed a purpose to his life and would need it even more once he fully regained his memories. He could feel his childe slipping away from him again.  
  
"I love you, Spike."  
  
This was the only argument he had left.  
  
"Maybe that's part of the problem."  
  
"How can it be? It's the only thing that's right!"  
  
"Don't you see, Angel? You're trying so hard to do what's right. I don't believe you sold your soul when you joined Satan & Partners, but you've mortgaged it and they're going to try to whittle away at it until you've got none of it left to cling to. You're selling it in dribs and drabs with a lie, a broken promise, with magic to manipulate people, with an attempt to murder Wesley. The tragic thing is that it's never about purely personal gain and it's going to be your downfall. You give away too much for the people you love. I refuse to be part of that, Angel. I won't watch you destroy yourself cus you think you can make things right for me."  
  
Angel remembered Cordy saying almost the exact same thing to him. These were both people he trusted, each with a clear sense of morality. Whereas his view tended to be skewed, with the people he loved first, the people who hurt those he loved undergoing every torture of hell and somewhere in the middle was the rest of the world.  
  
He was defeated on all counts. Whichever way he turned the answer was always the same.  
  
"Spike?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Don't disappear. Keep in touch. Please?"  
  
Spike felt tears prick his eyelids as he whispered, "Yeah."  
  
And hung up. 


	6. Surprise

Disclaimer: Nope, still not mine. Joss's and ME's. Hope they don't mind me playing with them. I'll give them all back at the end...although maybe they wouldn't notice if I just kept one?  
  
Summary: Spike gets a present. Angel gets peace of mind and Giles gets a surprise.  
  
Author's Note: Firstly, thanks for the kind reviews and comments, they keep me on the ball and motivated. Although I have the story virtually complete as far as plot is concerned I'm always happy when someone gets me thinking about it in a slightly different way - it usually results in some amendments. In answer to one particular query: no not slash, I wanted to keep it fairly innocent and I would have had the grace to warn you in the story summary (not that I have anything against m/m or f/f relationships). Finally the stories are unbeta'd so if you spot errors I'm really grateful when you let me know. Cheers. xxx  
  
Chapter 6  
  
Surprise  
  
A few days later Spike had telephoned Angel. His memory seemed to be returning but in a haphazard way. He sounded ok but Angel could feel his distress. He continued to probe until Spike admitted that the nightmares had started again.  
  
"I'm sorry Spike. I wish there was something I could do to help."  
  
"Yeah, I know. How do you cope with it?"  
  
"You know me. Brood a bit. Fight the good fight. I don't know really, just after a hundred years you get used to it, I guess."  
  
"I don't have a hundred years."  
  
Angel felt an icy grip around his heart.  
  
"What do you mean? You have all the time in the world ahead of you. There's nothing wrong is there? You're ok?"  
  
"Hey, Peaches. Less of the panic, yeah? I'm just saying that I need to be out there and at the top of my game. I have people depending on me."  
  
"Are they sending you out to fight already? Are you sure you're fit enough?"  
  
"Won't know until I try."  
  
"Just try not to put yourself in too much danger."  
  
Spike snorted.  
  
"What?"  
  
"They won't let me sodding fight!"  
  
Angel couldn't help grinning, the younger vampire sounded so outraged.  
  
"No? What happened?"  
  
"A group of slayers were going to clear out a nest of vamps, I thought I could go along and help out, you know? Keep my hand in?"  
  
"Uh huh. Seems a bit too soon to me. You must only just have got back on your feet."  
  
"I was fine and you know how I get. Sort of restless and antsy."  
  
"So you bullied them into letting you go?"  
  
"Yeah. I was looking forward to it as well, a good fight...I mean doing good and if I happen to get in a spot of violence before bedtime...well you know how it is."  
  
"So what happened?"  
  
"They formed a bloody honour guard, surrounded me and killed anything that came within six feet of me!"  
  
Angle tried to smother a laugh.  
  
"And it is not sodding funny! Every time I went for a vamp one of the bloody bint's got in my way and got them first."  
  
"Hey I'm sorry." Angel commiserated sounding anything but sorry. They shouldn't have let him go in the first place.  
  
"Yeah well, all I could do was light up a fag and watch their style, or I would have, if they'd had any. If these are the best I can understand why they need me."  
  
"So is that what you're doing? Training slayers?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
He sounded uncertain, as though he wanted approval.  
  
"You're right they're going to need someone like you. You'll make a real difference."  
  
"You think?"  
  
"Yes, I do. Anyway, is there somewhere I can reach you if I need y...to get in touch?"  
  
Spike hesitated.  
  
"They're not keen on me giving out details of their operations. If you need to get hold of me Wes will be able to reach me."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"How are things there? Are you all right? Are the gang ok?"  
  
"We're all fine. You know...not as it was, but we're ok. I...we all miss you."  
  
"We'll have to meet up. Once I'm a bit more settled."  
  
"OK. Thanks for calling and if you need anything..."  
  
"Yeah, I know. Anyway, see you around."  
  
"Uh huh and better luck with your next fighting thing."  
  
Another disgruntled snort and he was gone.  
  
Letting him out to fight this early with only untrained slayers protecting him. Sheer stupidity. He tested the bond again and could feel a slight directional tug to it. He was on a mission; he was going to find his childe.  
  
Spike hung up the phone. He'd finally remembered what that damned noise was. The exchange of blood had resulted in Angel and himself bonding again. The whining/bitter noise/taste had been his interpretation of his sire's misery. He was glad he'd made the call. That awful feeling of despair had receded to something slightly more tolerable.  
  
***  
  
Spike threw himself into the training of slayers with unexpected gusto. In the past Giles had always assumed that any good deeds on Spike part were always linked to an attempt to seduce Buffy, yet there was no such motivation here. Now that he no longer had to hover protectively over the children Giles was slowly discovering that he was beginning to like the English vampire.  
  
It had all begun one night when he had heard noises from Spike's basement room. It almost sounded like whimpering. After some consideration he had decided to check on Spike. To find him asleep and within the throes of some tormented nightmare. He'd been hesitant about waking the vampire for fear that he might, under some stimulus from the dream, attempt to attack him. He'd compromised and kept his distance whilst sharply calling for him to wake up. Spike had awoken with a start and instead of attacking had leapt from the bed and cowered in a corner of the room.  
  
Giles had looked on in astonishment, whilst Spike gradually became aware of who was there.  
  
"Oh. Its you."  
  
He'd immediately begun to cover up, attack always being the best form of defence with Spike.  
  
"What are you doing here, in my room, in the middle of the night? If you want to get your hands on this hot, tight body you have to give a man a clue first, not just burst in on him."  
  
"Spike."  
  
"I mean its just not cricket, is it?" He rambled as he wrapped himself back in the bedclothes.  
  
"I always had my suspicions about you. Public school being what it is."  
  
"Spike!"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"What's the matter?"  
  
"What do you care?"  
  
"If it affects my slayers, I care. If this is happening to you every night you're not going to be fit to care for them."  
  
Spike melted back into his pillows.  
  
"I know. Don't know what to do though."  
  
Giles sat on the foot of the bed.  
  
"I think you should begin by telling me what's happening."  
  
"Did Wesley tell you why they removed my memories to start with?"  
  
"Yes. Oh. I see. The people you killed...your victims..."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Does this only happen at night?"  
  
"Sort of. During the day I can push them to one side. I can't let them interfere with the work I'm doing."  
  
"Maybe you need to remember them when you're awake."  
  
"I don't think so! Bad enough when I'm trying to sleep."  
  
"Spike..."  
  
"Giles. When you have murdered innocents then may be I'll take your advice."  
  
"I have."  
  
"Really? Who? Why?"  
  
"You remember Ben?"  
  
"How could I forget. 'Ben is Glory, Glory is Ben". I said those words so frigging often, one day they'll cut open my head and find those words burnt on to my brain."  
  
"Glory was defeated and Ben was lying there on the tower. I had to remove any possibility of her coming back, so I killed him."  
  
"That was different. You had no choice."  
  
"I felt I had no choice but he was still innocent."  
  
"Not that innocent, he chose himself over the Bit. Still, I suppose that gives you the right. Go on, tell me again what your advice would be."  
  
"It's just that everyone dies, from the moment we're born we owe nature a death. In the end there is nothing the living can do for the dead but remember them as truthfully and as faithfully as possible."  
  
"Go on."  
  
"Some of your victims were killed so long ago, there is nobody left to remember. Only you. So stop denying them. They were more than victims. They were people. You must remember more about them than how you tortured them and how they screamed...some clue as to who they were, what sort of people they were?"  
  
Spike slowly nodded.  
  
"The blood gives up secrets as you drink, you get some images, sometimes just feelings..."  
  
"Really? So when these thoughts intrude on you during the day, don't shut them out. Let them come. Give them their due and remember them as people."  
  
"You want me to sit and brood every day?"  
  
"Yes, I see your point. But Angel has had a long time to come to terms with what he has done. You're not stupid, learn from him."  
  
"I am not going to brood! I'll just have some quiet thinking time each day."  
  
"Exactly."  
  
"Never thought I'd be thanking you for anything."  
  
"Don't worry, you haven't."  
  
Spike brightened.  
  
"No I haven't, have I? Cheers Rupes."  
  
Giles let out a genuinely amused smile.  
  
"Go to sleep Spike."  
  
"Uh huh. G'night."  
  
"I'll see you and your hot, tight body tomorrow."  
  
"Rupert!"  
  
***  
  
Life at Wolfram and Hart continued. As Angel had said it wasn't quite the same as before. Previously they had been hopeful that they were taking on evil from the belly of the beast. Now it appeared they weren't even giving the beast indigestion. They realised this might be a fight they could lose because it was becoming so damned tricky to tell right from wrong.  
  
Part of Wesley thought, 'power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely" and Angel's treatment of Spike seemed evidence of this. But another part thought maybe Angel had been doing the right thing. The place wasn't the same without the bleached one's wicked sense of humour, constant chat and occasional insight.  
  
Gunn was having his own problems. His memory implant was definitely slipping. He was still managing but if it got any worse he'd be unable to cover up any longer. The information he had access to had helped hundreds of people, surely he had the duty to protect this gift? He wasn't sure. He didn't know. He liked who he was now, he liked being smart and he knew this warped his judgement.  
  
Fred had become nervous around Angel, which was hardly surprising. He had always been a hero to her. He still was. Just not as dependable and trustworthy as she had once thought. She missed Spike, they had been friends and despite his volatility he had been a surprisingly steadying influence on them all, with his well-timed comments and ability to see things as they were. Personally she thought Spike's decision was wrong. Angel had explained it to them. There were two main reasons he refused to return: Spike thought that he had a bad effect on Angel and; he needed a purpose, which they were unable to provide.  
  
The fact that Spike refused to work for Wolfram and Hart had hit them all. It threw their own decision to take up employment there in stark relief. That was something that Fred could not fix, but she truly believed that Spike was wrong about his effect on Angel. Their CEO seemed so lost these days. Even when they had only sniped at each other constantly, Spike had brought balance, he questioned Angel if he was overlooking something or in danger of doing something stupid. Not so much 'questioned' but called him a 'stupid wanker' and go storming out. Alternatively, he would confirm a decision, more likely than not picking up the heaviest axe he could find and asking them what they were waiting for.  
  
Without this, Angel seemed more uncertain. Nothing was ever black and white anymore. The only thing that was good at the moment was her relationship with Wesley. She had the sense to make sure that Knox was in no doubt that there was nothing between them and now it was simply a matter of letting Wesley know exactly how she felt. She thought she had but, honestly, men could be remarkably dense sometimes. Even clever ones like Wesley.  
  
Angel tried to keep focused and do a good job but he found that he envied Spike his simplicity of purpose. Train slayers and send them out into the world to fight evil. No grey areas there.  
  
After his conversation with Spike he'd done a bit of shopping. He could understand Giles and his team not wanting to give out addresses or phone numbers but there was no way they could keep him from having contact with his childe. He knew Spike's love of gadgets and actually did some research before hitting the mall. The things he did for his childe, even Cordy had never been able to get him to use one, never mind understand what they did. Now he was the proud owner of a neat little phone, with camera, flash, messaging and WAP facilities. Not only that, he was also reading up on how to use all the functions. Now all he had to do was remember to keep it charged and to carry it with him wherever he went. He neatly wrapped the other phone and asked Wesley to make sure Spike got it.  
  
***  
  
Spike received the gift with some surprise and a little trepidation. The only presents he'd ever received were from his Dark Princess and he'd learnt pretty quickly that he had better be damned careful when opening them. She had been particularly attracted to religious objects and icons. He'd literally had his fingers burnt more times than enough.  
  
It was wrapped in brown paper and had a simple 'To Spike' written in Angel's flowing handwriting. He realised that Giles was curious but he didn't feel like sharing this moment. This was the first present his Sire had ever given him and he wanted to enjoy it in privacy. So he nodded at Giles and took it to his room.  
  
He held it for a while and tested the weight. He held it to his face and sniffed it. He gave it a careful shake and it gave forth some satisfactory rattles. Then he carefully peeled back the sellotape until the paper came free in one sheet. He didn't even glance at the present; instead he stared at the brown paper bearing his name, folded it and put it neatly to one side. Then he turned back to the box and took in his gift. All semblance of patience and calm were gone as he tore into the box.  
  
Giles listened outside the door, just to make sure that there was nothing untoward about the gift. He had to assume that all was well after hearing, "Whoa! Fantastic!" Floating up from the room. He sounded like a kid. A really happy kid. Giles moved away to allow him to enjoy the moment without an eavesdropper.  
  
Spike gave the instructions a cursory once over and then rang the number already input into the phone's memory. It only rang once before it was answered.  
  
"Hi Spike."  
  
Angel sounded so pleased with himself it made Spike laugh.  
  
"Hey there."  
  
"You like?"  
  
"Oh yeah. I like. I've sent you a gift."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"On your phone. Take a look."  
  
"Just a minute."  
  
There was the sound of someone tapping away, a few bleeps and then the line went dead. Angel finally managed to retrieve a couple of photos. One was of Spike grinning like a loon. Another was obviously his room. He rang back.  
  
"Uh, sorry about that. How come I've studied this thing all morning and still haven't got the hang of it and you've had it..."  
  
"About three minutes."  
  
"Three minutes and got it singing and dancing?"  
  
"You'd be surprised at the things I can do, Pet."  
  
"Not anymore."  
  
"You've finally accepted I'm a complete genius, then?"  
  
"If you want to believe that, who am I to disillusion you? You're looking good by the way."  
  
"Yeah, back to my normal stunning self now."  
  
"Of all your qualities its your modesty that overwhelms me the most."  
  
"Knocks you out, does it?"  
  
"No... that was Fred and her tranq gun."  
  
"Really! Good on her! Good girl that. Taught her everything thing she knows."  
  
"Except for the logarithms, fractal equations and algorithms."  
  
"I meant taught her all the important stuff. Sneaky attacks and what knocks out fat, angry vamps."  
  
"I'm not fat. I used to be out fighting every night when I worked at Angel Investigations. That sort of lifestyle soon piles on the muscle. And hey! You told her how to knock me out?"  
  
"Well... your soul has always been rather pesky. Thought the kid should know how to defend herself. Didn't hurt you did it?"  
  
"It made me...talkative."  
  
"You being chatty? I'm surprised they didn't drop down dead from the shock of it."  
  
"Yeah. Anyway, thank you. You know, for looking out for them."  
  
"Don't let them know. But I like them."  
  
"Too late, think they already know."  
  
"Huh. What do you think of my digs?"  
  
"They look a bit...dingy."  
  
"You're talking to a person who's main place of abode used be a crypt, luv. Just because you're living the life of bloody Riley with your necro- tempered glass, swanky office, well appointed apartment, some truly stunning cars...uh...what was my point again? Oh yeah, this is luxury to some of us."  
  
"I could get some of that glass put in if you want?"  
  
"I don't think Giles would be keen if I started to make this place vampire friendly. Anyway, it always makes me a bit uneasy."  
  
"I know what you mean, it's unnatural."  
  
"If you're not keen why don't you get rid of it?"  
  
"I kind of thought it was cool. Makes a statement."  
  
"Yeah it says, 'here's a complacent vampire who's going to make a mistake one day and fry himself'."  
  
"No chance of that. Every time I step in front of it I flinch in anticipation."  
  
"Hmmm. I have a basement room, with one small high window. It wouldn't make that much difference here anyway/"  
  
"Yeah, I see it." Angel said looking at the photo again.  
  
"What's that thing in the corner?"  
  
"An X-box."  
  
"I say again, what's that thing in the corner?"  
  
"Bloody hell, Angel. It's a games console, its part of my rehabilitation, helps with my fingers and co-ordination. You need to keep up with the world more."  
  
"I can use a mobile phone!"  
  
Spike smiled gently.  
  
"Yeah, you're doing well, Pet."  
  
"Call me if there's anything. I'll always have it with me."  
  
"I will. And thank you. It's nice. You know...getting gifts."  
  
"Come back. I'll buy you presents every day."  
  
"Subtle, Peaches, very subtle. I'll see you around."  
  
"Yeah. Are you patrolling tonight?"  
  
"That's the plan."  
  
"Oh well. Good luck."  
  
"Yeah. Bye then."  
  
"Bye, Spike."  
  
Angel was feeling very pleased with himself. Spike might sound cool but he knew that he'd been delighted with the present. He looked at the picture of Spike grinning out at him and said, "See you tonight then Spike."  
  
***  
  
Spike began working with a small group of slayers with Andrew and Giles as onlookers.  
  
"I watched you the first night we went out. Well done. You got the job done. But on the whole you were crap. You're relying mainly on your speed, strength and instincts. All of which are important and makes you equivalent to the average fledge. Luckily that's what you were dealing with the other night."  
  
They listened to him in respectful silence. It was unnerving, he was used to verbally sparring with the Scoobies and found that he missed it. Never mind, he had to think of this more as a vampire society, he was in charge and they obeyed.  
  
"By the time I'm done you'll be up to master vampire level. Right we'll have some names. I'm Spike and this is Erica and Chris. He pointed at the two who had been involved in his 'rescue'. Let's hear from the rest of you. Blondie, you start."  
  
For the first time he allowed a group of strangers to name themselves instead of giving them nicknames that allowed him to distance himself from them.  
  
He nodded at each of them. He had given some careful thought to how he was going to structure these classes.  
  
"Ok. We're going to start every morning with Tai Chi. It strengthens your musculature, improves your breathing, your posture, your balance and your blood flow. It also helps with your concentration. I don't expect you to learn it all in a few weeks but we will add more positions everyday."  
  
After the first class Giles approached him.  
  
"I never dreamt you knew Tai Chi. It doesn't really seem your style."  
  
"Nah, it's not. It's the poof, he went in for all that tranquillity lark. Thought it might be a good way to start, get their blood flowing a little, then move on to some proper fighting skills and finally something like yoga, stretch their muscle and ligaments, improve their flexibility after all the hard exercise."  
  
"Really, I am surprised. In fact I would even say I'm impressed."  
  
"What did you think I was going to do? Have them chop through planks of woods with their heads?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"I was saving that for the next lesson."  
  
***  
  
Angel went out as soon as he was dark, walking the streets and focusing on his blood link to Spike. He could feel it constantly but unless he was fairly close to the other vampire it wasn't strong enough to be able to place him. Finally he felt it, a very definite tug. He felt like howling with joy. He took off down the street. Yes, there it was again. He took to the rooftops to prevent anyone spotting him.  
  
He could just make out the strange little group. Spike, Giles and half a dozen teenaged girls. Angel finally relaxed for the first time since Spike had disappeared. He followed them carefully. Spike was talking. He seemed to be sending Giles and four of the slayers on ahead, whilst he and the other two girls ducked into a side alley. Looked like they had the building and were going for a two-pronged attack and covering both exits. Sound enough. He moved closer in case he was needed.  
  
He froze, someone was threatening Spike with a knife, he scented the air. Human. He tensed up ready to fly in and help. One of the slayers had the same idea and had moved in for what could have been a killing blow had Spike not caught her hand. The sudden movement startled the man and he pressed the knife into Spike's stomach, there was a faint scent of blood before Spike quickly managed to knock it away. The man made a run for it. He'd probably never meant to use the knife. One of the slayers started to run after him but before she could even blink she found an angry Spike standing in front of her. He was seething and Angel wouldn't like to be in her shoes when this was finished.  
  
Spike knocked the padlock off the back door and flung it open noisily. That must have been the sign for the others to burst through the front. The vampires inside were outnumbered and the fight was short and sharp with Spike mainly watching and stepping in when he was needed. Angel could see what he'd meant about their style. No wonder most slayers had such a short life expectancy if this was the general standard when they started.  
  
"Are you alright, Spike?" Giles asked, noticing the flowering bloodstain.  
  
"We got attacked out the back." Explained one of the girls who had been with Spike.  
  
"I'm fine but me and the girls are going to have a little talk."  
  
"Please, don't mind me." Giles said, curious as to the nature of this talk.  
  
Spike nodded and gestured for the girls to gather around.  
  
"Firstly. You do not hit humans. You are not vigilantes, you are not hooligans and you are not a bloody mob. You are slayers, you kill monsters. The police are there to deal with men like him."  
  
"But he held a knife to you!" Said the girl who had attempted hit the man.  
  
"Do you think a knife would harm me or did you think I wouldn't be able to disarm him harmlessly by myself. Hell even one of you could manage that. What makes you think I couldn't?"  
  
"I'm sorry." The girl hung your head.  
  
"Look. It's for your own good. You kill things every day, that's what you're trained for, are you suddenly going to remember to reign in your strength just because it's a human you're dealing with? The rule is you don't hit them unless you absolutely have to. I'm not seeing any of my slayers go bad cus they accidentally kill a human."  
  
"Are we your slayers then?" asked a dark haired slayer with a slight grin.  
  
"Better believe it. Body and soul. No one hurts you except me."  
  
They all exchanged looks and little smiles.  
  
"And secondly." He had their attention again.  
  
"When there's a plan in place and everyone is depending on you, you DO NOT go scooting off to do your own thing, Christine."  
  
"I know. Sorry, Spike. It won't happen again."  
  
"Be sure it doesn't. Right that's enough for tonight. I need to get out of this bloody shirt."  
  
"Umm. I have some bandages if you want me to deal with it?" said Blondie.  
  
Giles stepped in.  
  
"The bleeding seems to have stopped already. I'll have a look at it when we get back."  
  
Angel carefully followed them. They returned to a black van. He made a call and gave hasty directions to his driver. His car arrived just as the van was pulling out of sight. He threw the driver out and raced after them, quickly catching up with them and then carefully hanging back. He tailed them until it finally pulled in at a nondescript house on the outskirts of the city. He sighed with relief. At least he knew where Spike was staying. He returned home feeling more cheerful than he had in a long time.  
  
Angel got to his room just as his mobile started to ring.  
  
"Hello? Spike?"  
  
"Did you enjoy the show, mate."  
  
"I don't know..."  
  
"Angel, don't even try."  
  
"Oh. You knew I was there? When did you realise?"  
  
"When that bloody man turned up with a knife. The aggression was rolling off you in waves. I'm surprised the bints didn't notice."  
  
"Oh. I'm sorry."  
  
"No. You're not."  
  
"No. I'm not. I needed to make sure you were really ok and that your strength had returned."  
  
"So you happy now?"  
  
"Well you didn't really get a proper match but yeah I'm happy. Are you annoyed with me?"  
  
"Nah. Not really."  
  
"I liked your lecture."  
  
"Shouldn't have to give it. I mean honestly of all the bloody stupid things. What the hell is Giles teaching them?"  
  
"Well, they've got you now."  
  
"Yeah. Are you going to be watching me again?"  
  
"Probably." Angel answered, which translated to 'of course I'll be frigging watching you'.  
  
"Oh. Ok."  
  
"You don't mind."  
  
"Nah. Just keep an eye open for the bints as well. They're not as good as they think they are."  
  
"I would do anyway. You know if I happened to be there."  
  
"Yeah. Anyway, it's been a long day."  
  
"Goodnight, Spike."  
  
"G'night."  
  
***  
  
The next few days passed quickly as the slayers settled into a routine, on the whole Giles was pleased how it was going. His contemplation was interrupted by Spike's dulcet tones.  
  
"Rupert! Where the bloody hell are you?"  
  
Giles appeared looking slightly flustered.  
  
"What is it? Is everything alright?"  
  
"No. It's not. I mean what the hell are you teaching these slayers?"  
  
"I'd say, how to fight evil and live."  
  
"Well it's not good enough."  
  
"I'm sorry, I'm at a loss..."  
  
"I'm talking about morals, Rupert. Ethics."  
  
"I...what have they done now?"  
  
"You heard about last night? When we went after that demon?"  
  
"Umm. I heard you got it."  
  
"One of the little sods was deliberately torturing the thing. It was down and instead of going for the clean kill, she began slicing and dicing."  
  
"Well..."  
  
"Well nothing!"  
  
Giles sighed.  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"She was angry because it managed to get a good hit in, caught her a bruise across the face. I'd managed to injure it and she stepped in and bloody well started chopping pieces off it! When I told her to stop, she told me it was an evil monster and deserved it."  
  
"What did you say?"  
  
"Told her that it might be an evil monster but she was not. Told her to kill it cleanly. She did. But they should know these things, shouldn't they? They have souls after all."  
  
"Yes, of course they have souls but remember, they have been joined with a demon. It's where they get their strength. Buffy used to manage it well enough but some don't find it so easy. Look I'll talk to them, we'll include it as part of their training."  
  
"Yeah. It's important. I told them they're mine. I have to look after them, protect them. Even from themselves."  
  
Spike was hovering.  
  
"Was there anything else?"  
  
"Yeah...one of them came to my room last night."  
  
"Yes. Why?"  
  
"Why the hell do you think? She was lonely and wanted a game of chess?"  
  
"Oh. I see."  
  
"They're children, Rupert. What the hell do they think they're playing at?"  
  
"Andrew told them about you and Buffy. They think it's romantic."  
  
"Romantic? Yeah. Right. All bloody hearts and flowers, it was. Just teach them some morals and keep them out of my room, yeah?"  
  
"When was I ever able to control my slayers. Just...lock your door!" Giles said crossly.  
  
Spike gave an angry grunt and disappeared back to his room.  
  
Giles made some tea and decided to phone Wesley.  
  
"Mr Giles? I mean Rupert. Is everything alright?"  
  
"No it's not bloody alright. I'm being given lessons in morality by William the Bloody!" Giles complained  
  
"Ah. He can be a little disconcerting sometimes."  
  
"Do you know? I sometimes think I preferred him without the soul."  
  
"I say. Surely not! Things can't be that bad."  
  
"No, I suppose not. The thing is he's right. It's not just enough to teach these girls how to kill, is it? We have to reinforce their sense of right and wrong."  
  
"I'm sure you're doing fine. Buffy did well enough."  
  
"She had her mother and friends. At the moment these girls have Andrew, Spike and myself."  
  
"A pretty good substitute I'd say."  
  
"Wesley?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Thank you. You're a good man."  
  
"No, I'm not. But I try."  
  
"If you need anything, call me."  
  
"Thank you, Rupert. I'll take you up on that." Giles felt much better after talking to his fellow Englishman. Perhaps, he was a person to trust after all. He sat back to enjoy his tea and think how to work in a little ethics to the slayers' education. When suddenly the front door slammed open. A suitcase was wheeled through the door followed by...  
  
"Buffy?"  
  
"Hello, Giles." Buffy replied. 


	7. Choices

Disclaimer: Nope, still not mine. Joss's and ME's. Hope they don't mind me playing with them.  
  
Summary: Buffy returns, choices are made and everything changes.

Chapter 7  
  
Choices  
  
"So how have you been?" Buffy enquired brightly.  
  
"Oh. I'm fine. This is a surprise. A pleasant surprise, I might add. You look well."  
  
"Thank you Giles, but I've been travelling for over..." she looked at her watch, "sixteen hours and I look like Aileen Wuornos on a bad day."  
  
Giles smiled.  
  
"You just look a little tired that's all. Why don't you shower and I'll get a bed made up. I'm sure you'll be feeling jet lagged."  
  
She tilted her head to one side, in a way that reminded Giles of Spike. He suddenly had the urge to be seated. Dear lord. Spike. And Buffy.  
  
"Don't you want to know what I'm doing here?"  
  
"Yes. Of course. Is there a problem?"  
  
"I received a call a couple of days ago. Have you got anything to tell me?"  
  
"Well naturally...we have a lot to catch up on." He removed his glasses and fiddled nervously with them. "You were telling me about a telephone call?"  
  
"Yes, that's right. I was wasn't I?" She looked at Giles with clear hazel eyes.  
  
"When were you going to tell me that the rules had changed?"  
  
"Rules?"  
  
"Giles. This is me."  
  
"I'm sorry, Buffy. Tell me what you know and I'll fill in the blanks."  
  
Buffy sat down opposite him.  
  
"It was an anonymous phone call, a girl. She told me I might be interested in who's currently training the slayers in LA. When I asked, she said, 'let's just say he has a soul.' I rang here and spoke to Andrew. Do you know what he said?"  
  
"I can honestly say I have no idea." Giles replied with a shake of his head.  
  
"He said that he was sworn to secrecy and refused to say another word. Well, except for his normal ramble."  
  
"I'm sorry you had to find out this way."  
  
"We agreed, Giles. He's untrustworthy, an unknown factor and it would be best just to keep the new slayers away from him. I can't believe you went behind my back like this. I mean, feel the trust here?"  
  
Giles frowned.  
  
"We're talking about...Angel?"  
  
"Yes, we're talking about Angel! Who else? Gee, Giles, get with the script."  
  
Giles gave the basement door an anxious glance. Buffy caught it.  
  
"He's here, isn't he? You've actually started handing out our addresses to evil law firms and their employees?"  
  
"Buffy..."  
  
"No, Giles." He recognised the determined look and the slight frown.  
  
"Please..."  
  
But she was already on her feet and wrenching at the door handle. Locked. She tried again.  
  
And heard an angry voice.  
  
"If that is one of you sodding slayer bints will you just go away. Not interested, yeah?"  
  
Her hand froze on the handle and she looked towards Giles.  
  
"Who have you got locked in the basement."  
  
"Locked in...? Its not how it appears, Buffy."  
  
She gave him a contemptuous look, stepped back from the door, raised a leg and kicked it in.  
  
"What the bloody hell..."  
  
He looked up the stairs at the small figure, framed by the doorway. The light was behind her and he couldn't quite make out...oh.  
  
"Buffy?"  
  
She turned away, brushed past Giles without seeing him and into the sunlit yard. She found a secluded spot and allowed her legs to collapse beneath her. 

  
  
Angel felt the sudden storm of emotion. It was confusion. It was pain, hurt, fear, affection, love. It was hope. What was happening now? He nearly jumped into his car straight away but he couldn't sense danger. Stupid. It would be stupid going to the slayer house in broad daylight. This evening, at the first sign of dusk, he'd go then and find out what was now threatening their uneasy status quo.  
  
Gunn was sitting in his office, also perturbed, he was mulling over a call from Spike. They had never really had much to do with each other, he'd been the butt of the vampire's strange brand of humour a few times but other than that. Zilch. Then in the middle of the night he'd been awoken by the insistent ringing of the telephone.  
  
"Is that you?"  
  
"Yeah, it's me. I mean its Gunn. Who is this?"  
  
"Who the bloody hell do you think?"  
  
English, deeper voice than Wesley.  
  
"Spike?" He'd asked blearily.  
  
"Got it in one, Einstein."  
  
"If this is your idea of a joke..."  
  
"Of course not! My jokes are far more amusing than this." He sounded offended.  
  
"So what's so important that you wake me at...3 o' clock in the morning?"  
  
"I had a dream...maybe a nightmare..."  
  
"You have to be kidding me. You're calling me in the middle of the night because you had a bad dream? Look I'm sorry, but call Angel. You're his kid."  
  
"I am not his sodding kid! And will you listen. I had a dream. I dreamt that you signed a piece of paper and killed Fred."  
  
"What are you getting at Spike? I would never harm Fred. She's one of the best people I know."  
  
"You didn't know what would happen. You signed it. This sarcophagus relic thingy arrives and it kills Fred. We can't save her, we can't bring her back."  
  
"Spike have you had premonitions before."  
  
"No. That was always Dru's thing."  
  
"You've had a bad dream, Spike. I'm not going to kill Fred."  
  
"Yeah. Ok. But remember, you have choices. And a few years at law school would give you the intellectual kudos you want. Anyway, if anyone asks you to sign something, read it carefully first, yeah?"  
  
"Ok, Spike. Whatever you want. Can I go back to sleep now?"  
  
"Wanker."  
  
That had been the end of the conversation and he'd fallen back to sleep and by morning had virtually forgotten all about it.  
  
Oh shit. How could he have forgotten?  
  
He'd finally given in and gone to see a man about an implant. He'd nearly walked away when he heard the terms. But he hadn't. He'd signed the form to allow something through customs. He'd been fully aware that it was sure to be a bad thing but decided once he'd got his smarts secured he'd deal with it then. He'd forgotten Spike's warning.  
  
It was only now that the odd conversation was coming back to him. Surely a coincidence? Spike had a bad dream, probably drank some bad blood. But the icy hand that clenched at his gut told him otherwise.   
  
The slayers had gathered in the exercise room. Chris turned to the blonde girl.  
  
"Honestly, Kirst. How could you be so stupid?"  
  
The other girl shrugged.  
  
"You know what Andrew said, he's in love with Buffy. He's not going to take the first girl who throw's herself at him. He's not like the geeky boys we know."  
  
"I know that! Why do you think I love him? God. Have you actually looked at him?" She shivered and closed her eyes.  
  
"Yeah but he's...Spike. Did you really think that he'd..."?  
  
"He might have. He's not a monk or anything is he?"  
  
"No, but he wouldn't take advantage of young girls either. You shouldn't have done it. Supposing he won't teach us anymore?"  
  
"Of course he will. We're his. He said so. Didn't it make your knees turn to water when he said we were his? Anyway, Neesha shouldn't have phoned Buffy, either."  
  
An Asian girl looked up and sighed.  
  
"I know but he looks so sad sometimes. I wanted to do something for him. Make him happy."  
  
"Well, so did I! You've got it as bad as me, making cow eyes at him all the time."  
  
"There's no point arguing, what's done is done." Chris peeked out. "Oh. She's kicked the door in. You know I hope she doesn't find out about you, Kirsty, trying to seduce her vamp. She's wicked strong."  
  
She closed the door quietly.  
  
"So did you see him...naked?"  
  
Kirsty lowered her eyes and then looked up slyly through her eyelashes.  
  
"Oh yeah."  
  
"How could you have? It's pitch black down there." Neesha asked and despite her doubt moved closer to hear more.  
  
"He was asleep on the bed, the covers half thrown back. Moonlight came through that small window and illuminated him. Every dip and plain and muscle."  
  
The other girls held their breath.  
  
"If you'd seen him you would have risked the wrath of Buffy. I'm talking two words here. Greek. God."  
  
"Then what happened?"  
  
"He woke up. Wrapped himself in a sheet and asked me what the hell I was doing there and called me a dozy bint."  
  
The others sniggered.  
  
"How embarrassing!"  
  
"What did you say?"  
  
"Told him I took a wrong turning and made a run for it!"  
  
They laughed.  
  
"Oh don't worry, he'll just think you're insane."  
  
"Don't care. It was worth every second."   
  
"Buffy? Are you alright?" Giles touched her gently on the shoulder. "I realise it's a shock."  
  
She turned large watery eyes to his.  
  
"How can this be?"  
  
"I don't know."  
  
"You should have told me, Giles."  
  
"I know."  
  
"Did Willow...?"  
  
"No. Not Willow."  
  
"Is he alright? Is he hurting?"  
  
"He's as he was."  
  
"That can't be true. If it is, why hasn't he come to find me?"  
  
"Maybe he is different, I don't think he knows exactly who he is."  
  
"Californian claptrap. That's what he'd say to that."  
  
"Perhaps he would. It doesn't make it any less true. Are you going to talk to him?"  
  
"I...I don't know how."  
  
"If it makes you feel any better I think he's feeling the same way. If he wasn't trapped by the daylight he'd probably run."  
  
"He doesn't want to see me?" Her bottom lip trembled slightly.  
  
"He wants it more than anything else in the world. It's just a little overwhelming."  
  
"He's overwhelmed? I nearly died of shock. I don't know whether to laugh or cry."  
  
"Come on. Let's go in and drag him out of hiding."  
  
"Hiding? Spike's not afraid of anything."  
  
Giles proffered a tissue. She dried her eyes and dabbed at her nose.  
  
"I must look a wreck."  
  
Giles looked at her tired face and red-rimmed eyes.  
  
"You look beautiful, Buffy."  
  
"You're a liar, Giles and a good one. When did you get to be such a good liar?"  
  
"Just one of my many hidden talents."  
  
She smiled at him.  
  
"By the way, did I tell you it's good to see you, too?"  
  
He laughed and pulled her into a hug.  
  
"But don't think you're forgiven for deceiving me."  
  
She talked bravely in front of Giles but now here she was stepping back into the house. She could make out a figure standing in the shadows. She concentrated on breathing but as he turned to face her, breath left her.  
  
"Buffy."  
  
"Spike."  
  
"It's been a while."  
  
"Two hundred and seventy-three days, eighteen hours." She replied.  
  
"No minutes?"  
  
"The world was falling apart and I forgot to look at my watch."  
  
"Huh."  
  
This felt too strange, too stilted.  
  
"Can I touch? I mean...you. Can I touch you?" She asked.  
  
"Buffy..." How could one word hold so much expression, so much feeling? It was just a name.  
  
She hugged him and tried to stop her brimming eyes from dampening his shirt. He stroked her hair.  
  
"It's alright, luv, Buffy. It's alright." He smoothed her hair soothingly.  
  
"Why didn't you tell me?" She whispered.  
  
"You know, I did the big hero finale thing, went out in a blaze of glory. Left you with one good memory of me being all self-sacrificing and noble. Spoils the effect when I suddenly pop back up again. Bit of an anticlimax isn't it? Went out a hero, come back as Spike."  
  
Buffy pulled back.  
  
"You can be a real dumb ass sometimes."  
  
Spike smiled at her.  
  
"What?" She asked.  
  
"Everyone has been treating me like glass lately. You never do that."  
  
He wished he could take back the words because now she was looking pained. This was everything he feared. Stilted conversations and every word stirring bad memories. He sat down on the couch and Buffy perched next too him.  
  
"What have you been doing?" He finally asked.  
  
"It's been amazing. I read a book and it didn't mention viscera once. I thought books like that were a myth but obviously I was mythtaken."  
  
Spike raised a brow in mock surprise.  
  
"You can read, as well?"  
  
"Sure, I mean obviously the non-demony words I have to sound out loud, like d-o-g. But I persevere."  
  
"So life is good?"  
  
"Better than I ever dreamt it could be for me. I've been touring around Europe."  
  
"Yeah? What did you think?"  
  
"It's like Disneyland. Except real...did that make sense?"  
  
"So that's what two thousand years of European culture has been reduced to?" Spike teased.  
  
Buffy pouted and considered.  
  
"It can be pretty awesome. They have castles and palaces. I can touch a wall and know that stone was placed there a thousand years ago."  
  
Spike shrugged.  
  
"As you get older you become less impressed with old thing. I haven't been to the old country for a while."  
  
"I visited London." Her eyes held a faraway look.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Uh huh. I'd walk the streets and wonder if you had walked there once. Everyone spoke a little like you. I had to leave."  
  
"Don't romanticise it Buffy. It was my hunting ground."  
  
"You were human once. I imagined you still human, walking in the autumn sun."  
  
"Yeah, well. It was all smog in those days and I'm as far removed from that man as the moon is from the sun."  
  
"Maybe you're not that man, but you are still a man. A good man."  
  
Spike said nothing.  
  
"I'm sure the other slayers have noticed you're a man...and are you blushing?"  
  
"Vampires don't blush."  
  
"Oh I get it! What was it you shouted when I first tried to get into your room? Something about telling the 'slayer bints' to go away? And why exactly was it locked? Poor Spike being hounded by teenaged girls." She teased.  
  
"Seriously Buffy, there's something very wrong with them."  
  
"Well, it's obviously not their eyes. For someone who's a smouldering pile of dust," her eyes teared up slightly, "you're looking good."  
  
She blinked and smiled at him.  
  
"So how is it working out for you? You being all teachery?"  
  
"Don't know really, haven't been doing it long. They've got the moves but then when we're faced with a big ugly, they don't apply what they've learnt."  
  
"Have any of them got hurt?"  
  
"Not yet. So far I've always managed to step in."  
  
"Uh huh."  
  
"What's that supposed to mean?"  
  
"They're dependent on you. If things aren't going right, instead of recovering, they're giving up and letting you do the biz. Seen it before with the potentials and some of the groups I've helped since."  
  
"I suppose." Spike said reluctantly.  
  
"Come on, Spike, just say, 'you're right Buffy'. Admit it like a man."  
  
"I would. But my tongue is incapable of producing those sounds."  
  
"Really? And can you say 'Spike is a complete dork?'" She asked thrusting out her chin.  
  
"Hey!"  
  
They looked around to find Andrew coming towards them.  
  
"You shouldn't talk like that to him any more. He's one of us now. Except, you know, way cooler."  
  
Buffy stared him down.  
  
"No way is that bleach head cooler then me."  
  
"Well....no." Andrew backtracked quickly. Even though he was now 85% more manly than he used to be, Buffy could still make him a little nervous. "Obviously I didn't mean cooler than you. Uh...I won't disturb you...I'm sure you want to...talk."  
  
Spike gave her a slight grin.  
  
"You enjoyed that didn't you?"  
  
"Oh yeah!"  
  
"You've changed. More relaxed...younger. You reminded me of the Bit for a second."  
  
"I guess. I spent seven years fighting for my life on a nightly basis. Seven years when I should have been just hanging in the mall with my friends, listening to music in my room, worrying about how fashionable I was, making moon eyes over the nice looking boy in the next grade."  
  
"You noticed a nice looking boy in the next grade?"  
  
"No, but I should have. All the stupid, childish, growing up things I should have been doing. Where every decision should feel like life and death, not literally be life and death. Now my expiry date is the same as everyone else's. I can have a life, I can afford to make stupid mistakes and when I'm done with that I'll think about a husband, some kids, a dog..." She frowned slightly. "...or maybe a cat. The point is I have time, I can make plans or I can just do nothing. The world won't end if I do nothing."  
  
Spike felt this speech as both a stab of pleasure and pain. Of course she would want children. And he'd always known that he wasn't one. He could never be the long haul guy. Now she had a chance of a real life.  
  
"I'm happy for you, Buffy."  
  
She caught his eye.  
  
"It's down to you, Spike. Everyday I remembered you."  
  
"Buff..."  
  
"No, Spike. Everyday I remembered you and wished I'd taken the time to make you understand. I wasn't lying, when I said that I loved you."  
  
"There's no need..."  
  
"Would you be quiet and listen."  
  
"Yes, 'Giles'."  
  
Buffy gave him a hard look but deigned not to reply.  
  
"I've had time to think in the last year. We've done so much to each other. We've both been monsters, we can't change it, can't take those memories away. But I can accept that you are not that man. You don't change your name when you change between your unsouled and souled state so I think we forget that there is a difference between the two...uh...perhaps you should change your name?" She considered this for a second before getting back on track.  
  
"Anyway, I hope you know that I've changed too, I can hardly bear to think of how I treated you. There was nothing good between us. It was wrong for us both."  
  
She saw him hang his head slightly and said gently, "Yet some good came out of it."  
  
He looked up in confusion.  
  
"What are you trying to say?"  
  
"You made me feel alive. You brought me back to life. I wouldn't have survived that dark time without you. Maybe what we did was wrong but because of you I survived. And I know it was bad for you too. Hurt you. But in the end you got your soul because of it. Of your own free will. You got your soul. Do you know how special that makes you?"  
  
"Then you became a champion and your sacrifice not only saved the world, saved my life. It also helped to give me a life worth living."  
  
"There's many different ways of loving, I know that now. It's not always about one person for life. I'm not in love with you. That's almost too shallow for the way I feel. You're inside me, part of me, family. I love you."  
  
It must be his soul making him such a wuss. He could feel the tears forming and blinked them harshly back."  
  
"I'd do it again, for you. Anything you want."  
  
"I know. I can trust you with anything. And you can trust me. If you need me, I'll be there."  
  
"I already know it. You came for me when the First had me. I believed in you and you came for me. How can I not love you?"  
  
She settled her head comfortably on his shoulder and let her eyes close as jet lag caught up with even her slayer stamina.  
  
Once she was fast asleep, Spike gently lowered her on to the couch and covered her with a duvet.  
  
He went about his normal routine. Training in the morning, playing his video games...occupational therapy, he quickly corrected himself, he did not play nerdy video games. And some quiet time away from the general bustle of the house. Giles had caught him at one point, obviously curious.  
  
"Is she alright? I mean, are you both alright?"  
  
"It's s'okay, Rupert. We met and the world didn't end."  
  
"Can I really trust you?"  
  
Spike just looked at him.  
  
"Of course. Sorry."  
  
The slayers had been unusually quiet during training. He'd ignored any tension and got on with it. They soon settled down and followed his lead. Since talking to Buffy about the slayers he had been thinking. He was used to fighting alone and that's what he had been passing on to the slayers. What they really needed was to gel as a team and be more aware of each other. He organised them into pairs to introduce them to the buddy system.  
  
"When you're in the middle of a fight it's difficult to keep track of everyone, so this is the way you do it. You each have your partners, when you fight, you fight together. Always be aware of your partner and what she's doing. I know up until now I've always stepped in when you're getting your ass kicked. From now on it won't be me. It will be your buddy."  
  
He looked at them seriously.  
  
"Tonight you're going to take out a nest. These are different to the ones we've taken earlier. They are not all fledges, with the dirt of the grave hanging on them. They're older and more experienced. And I won't be there."  
  
There was a slight stir in the room.  
  
"So today you're training for real."  
  
There was a new level of concentration. He made himself the target and let each pair take him on in turn, teaching them moves and counter moves at speeds the normal eye could hardly follow. When he realised that they were exhausted he called a halt and took them through their cool down. He tended to think of it as their wind down, they were always buzzing after training and needed to be brought back to an even keel.  
  
"That's it then. You bints are by yourselves tonight. Later on Giles will give you directions to the nest. For those of you have no sense of direction," he looked at Kirsty, "I suggest you stick close to your friends. I'll see you tonight after the mission."  
  
Once he had gone they collapsed on the to the floor.  
  
"It's your fault, Kirsty. He's cross with you and now he's sending us out alone."  
  
"Don't be stupid. Spike wouldn't let us go out if he thought we were going to end up dead. He think's we're ready that's all."  
  
"Probably wants to spend some time with his Buffy, so he's getting rid of the kids for the night."  
  
"We're not kids."  
  
"We are to him. He's so old."  
  
"Must be lonely not having anyone his age to talk to. You know...about old things. Horse and carts and wattle and daub houses."  
  
"Don't think he's that's old, sweetie. Maybe the industrial revolution."  
  
"Doubt if he even noticed stuff like that...you know, back then. He'd have been all blood and fangs not much interested in the latest techniques being used down at the mill."  
  
"They're just animals."  
  
"Some of the older ones have more to them, a personality."  
  
"Yeah, but they're still evil."  
  
"Except Spike. He went and got a soul."  
  
"I had a slayer dream . About Spike. It was the New York slayer." Erica admitted.  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"He was a punk. Spiked hair, ripped T-shirt, piercings, eye liner. They met and fought, but it felt almost as though they were playing...dancing. He respected her, admired her, there was lust in his eyes and she knew he had come for her. It was as if he was courting her. He wanted no one else, only her."  
  
"He was beautiful and deadly. She resisted him the first time they met and he left. The next time was on the subway. He was there, predatory, seductive, every move graceful but lethal. She was tired, she'd fought so long, for the world, for her son and she was spent, used up. Just for a moment she gave up and welcomed him, he was so strong and attacked so quickly. It was done it the blink of an eye. He didn't torture her or string it out, just broke her neck cleanly. That was it. I awoke, with the memory of him."  
  
They considered this in silence.  
  
It was Neesha who finally spoke.  
  
"Maybe that's the best they could hope for, the old slayers. They were real warriors. What more could they ask for but a clean death in a good fight? I think she chose the terms of her death."  
  
"That sort of life must be so frightening. So lonely."  
  
"Perhaps that's what drew Spike and Buffy together, the loneliness and futility."  
  
"It's strange isn't it? The last true slayer and the only vampire to win himself a soul, together. As though the whole world conspired to bring about that moment."  
  
"Do you think he'll leave us and return to Italy with her?"  
  
They were quiet. As much as they wanted to deny it, it had about it the feeling of fate and inevitability.   
  
Angel filled his day doing all the pointless things he normally did. Yeah, he was busy, which was what he needed. But he was busy with things that Wolfram and Hart pushed in his direction, and maybe he was doing some good, it was impossible to tell. But what he wasn't doing was keeping in touch with the streets outside and all the things that the Senior Partners wanted to keep hidden. He knew that he was being distracted but didn't know what to do about it. He needed guidance and the Powers That Be had deserted him.  
  
He had almost had enough. He had grown distant from his humans. His mission was lost in the devastation that Connor left behind. The guidance he'd always relied on was gone with Cordy. His dreams of beating evil from the inside were growing more and more distant. The only thing that kept him hanging on was Spike, almost as lost and confused as himself. He still had one duty left, to protect and care for Spike.  
  
He tried to keep away from the bond, the feelings coming through puzzled him. Made him anxious and restless. They weren't exactly bad but they made him itch and filled him with foreboding. He glanced up at his clock yet again, as he waited impatiently for dusk to fall.   
  
Buffy awoke with a languorous stretch, feeling ravenous. That much hadn't changed since the old days. She'd put on a little weight but what can you expect? When in Rome, do as the Romans do, which in her case meant eating lots of pasta swimming in olive oil.  
  
"Hey, Giles. What's cooking?"  
  
"No longer cooking. Cooked. Can you get some plates, please?"  
  
She looked at the garlic bread and pasta.  
  
"You Giles, are a prince among men."  
  
"I knew it. You only love me for my culinary skills."  
  
"That's not true. I also love you for your washing and vacuuming skills."  
  
"Well as long as my true talents are appreciated..."  
  
As he turned away to strain the pasta, she swiped a slice of garlic bread.  
  
"I saw that Buffy."  
  
"How do you do that?" she pouted.  
  
"I think it's parent/child thing." He replied.  
  
"Know what you mean, I can do it to Dawn. It drives her nuts."  
  
The other slayers came down and were introduced. Spike stayed in his room.  
  
"He likes to have a quiet time." Giles explained.  
  
She mainly listened to the chat around the table, only chipping in occasionally. When they were finished she stayed to help Giles clear the table.  
  
"They normally help but tonight they're preparing themselves for their trip out without Spike. Or so they think. As if he'd let them out of his sight."  
  
"They really like him don't they?"  
  
"Yes. It's Andrew's fault. You know how he always likes to tell stories."  
  
"He still does that?"  
  
"Yes, I've tried to stop him. But everything we lived through...or didn't...he's turned into stories giving them the air of myths and legends. They probably have a secret shrine where they worship the great god Spike."  
  
"And meeting him hasn't changed their point of view at all?" She asked raising her eyebrows in droll amusement.  
  
"Not an iota. When you think about it, every story Andrew told was true. Then Spike claimed them as his. Now they already feel themselves becoming tangled up in the legends. If they're his then they are going to be the best. They'll work for him until they're dropping from exhaustion. He compares them to you and sees their failings but actually they're probably the best we've had so far."  
  
"I thought he had nothing here, but it's not true is it? I was going to ask if he wanted to return to Rome with me. He can train slayers there, too."  
  
"Buffy, is that wise."  
  
"Don't do that, Giles. It's different now. In a way it hardly matters. Nothing will change for us. We've found something...comfortable. I love him, he loves me and miles don't really matter. If he needed me I'd be here before he could finish calling for me. We could sleep together and still nothing would change. It's all...window dressing. It's no longer passion and need and dependency. It's honesty, trust and love. I could happily spend the rest of my life with just him. But, one day, I would like family and children. He's never been selfish with me. He wants that for me too. Also, I don't want him tied to me as I'm growing old. He needs more in his life than that. But...you know...if he wanted, we could have a few years together."  
  
"You're deluding yourself, it wouldn't work Buffy. I've seen you two together, if you took him away you wouldn't be able to let go again. If ever you had a husband he wouldn't even be close to becoming a substitute for Spike. What sort of life would that be? I think my first instincts were right. It would be better for you both if you didn't meet too often."  
  
"For us both? What has Spike got here?"  
  
"He has Angel nearby."  
  
"That's the scraping of the barrel, Giles. They don't even like each other."  
  
"Something has changed. Perhaps you should talk to Spike. Besides which he still has his slayers here. Vampires take claiming very seriously."  
  
"Right, his fan club. How do they feel about me?"  
  
"Slightly below Spike on the hero worship scale."  
  
"Not fair, I've prevented more apocalypses than him. And died more times than him."  
  
"Not strictly true. He's died twice, too."  
  
"Huh. Well, I'm still up on the apocalypses."  
  
"Still competitive aren't you?" Said a husky English voice. "I can't imagine you settling down to a quiet life in suburbia, when the only competition will be making sure that your roses flourish better than the ones next door."  
  
She turned to find Spike laughing gently at her.  
  
"Suburbia? I never said suburbia."  
  
"True, you didn't. Did you have a good sleep?"  
  
"Yeah, sorry about falling asleep on you. Literally."  
  
"Anytime."  
  
It was such a contrast to the days when she'd turn up for the sex but couldn't bear to stay with him afterwards. It made the soul more that worth it, he could finally give her something she needed even if it was just a quiet place to lay her head for a little while.  
  
"It's getting dark. I'll make sure the slayers are prepared." Giles said as he walked out.  
  
"You're letting them out by themselves?"  
  
"You must be bloody joking. No way could they take the nest. The vampire in charge is as old as Angelus and she's just as vicious." Spike snorted. "Just want to make them think they're alone, they've been too complacent. I'll follow behind."  
  
"Mind if I walk with you?"  
  
"As long as you don't hold me up."  
  
"Hold you up? You're so going to regret that when you're puffing along behind me."  
  
"Vampires don't puff."  
  
"Yeah, so what's that thing you do with the breathing? Relaxation techniques?"  
  
"Do I still do that? Left over from being human. Angelus used to try to beat it out of me."  
  
"Nothing can beat the humanity out of you. I think it just curled up and hid for a hundred years or so."  
  
The slayers left and they followed at a discreet distance.   
  
It was finally dark enough to leave. Angel let out a sigh. This was one of the longest day's he'd ever known. He called for his chauffeur, he didn't want to be forced to abandon his car if he needed to get out.  
  
When he reached the slayer house he could sense that Spike was still inside. The slayers finally appeared, they seemed tighter grouped and more anxious than usual. He wondered where Spike was. God he hoped he was ok. Right, there he was. Angel got out of the car and was about to walk over to him when he noticed the small blonde figure next to him.  
  
He became deathly still.  
  
Not her. It couldn't be her. She had her arm casually linked to Spike. Angel followed behind, careful to keep his distance and to move silently. Then he heard her speak, her distinct Sunnydale twang was unmistakeable.  
  
"Buffy." He whispered.  
  
She was speaking.  
  
"So you know, I was thinking."  
  
"Be careful don't want you to hurt yourself, Blondie."  
  
"Oh, dumb blonde jokes, coming from you. Pot and kettle, Spike. Anyway, quit with the distraction."  
  
"Ok, go on."  
  
"You know I love you right? And I know you love me."  
  
"Yeah." Spike replied cautiously, wondering where this was going.  
  
"Do you want to come back to Italy with me?"  
  
Angel stopped as though he'd run into a brick wall. He could hear the happy chatter fading into the distance. He took a side street and leant heavily against the wall. He was breathing. He found it rather odd, he never breathed. He wished it would stop. The icy air was hurting his throat. He felt cold. He was always cold. He never liked February. People thought that California was always warm but February was a bitter month. The chill went to his bone, but of course it did. He was dead. A corpse.  
  
His face was wet. Was it raining? He wasn't really sure. He couldn't see clearly. He felt the hard sidewalk beneath his knees.  
  
He remembered this world when it was light and young. It still was for some, places where Italian sun was caught and held in strands of blonde. Not his world though. His world was dark, like his hair and like his eyes and like his soul. A dark, bleak, place, as empty as his heart.  
  
A voice cut through his misery.  
  
"Angelus! Fancy seeing you here. And so distressed. So despairing. Damn! It does my eyes good to see you this way. On your knees before me, the way it should be."  
  
The woman smiled at him and then her beautiful face changed as she flashed her fangs in a grin.  
  
"I'm so glad to be able to get reacquainted with you. Before you pass from this world, forever."  
  
He knew this vampire from back in the day and they hadn't been friends. She was old and despite her laughable melodrama, she was dangerous. Angel knew he should get up and fight but what the hell for? What was there left to fight for? He made no move as she came towards him.   
  
Buffy continued.  
  
"Not forever, but you know for a while. We have new slayers out there, as well. You could train them."  
  
"I...don't know what to say."  
  
It was tempting. To be with her for a while. To see the Italian sun reflected on her face.  
  
"Thank you, Buffy. For asking me."  
  
"It's not something you need to thank me for! I'd like you to come back with me. You're going to say no, aren't you?"  
  
Spike refused to meet her look.  
  
"Giles has hinted that I need to ask about Angel. Like what's between you and him? Will you tell me?"  
  
Spike nodded slowly and asked, "Do you still love him?"  
  
Buffy hesitated.  
  
"Honestly?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
"He was the first man I ever loved and I don't think I can ever stop loving him."  
  
"It's ok Buffy. I understand, 'many different ways of loving', yeah?"  
  
"Yeah. But I don't understand him anymore. I wasn't happy when he left me to take up the fight by himself but I understood. But I can't understand why he's joined the other side. The person I knew wouldn't have done that."  
  
"He had a load of shit piled on him, which put him in a place where every choice he made was bad, he just did the best he could in the circumstances. He's not evil but he's struggling and he needs every bit of love and support he can find. He's the same man you knew, with the best of intentions but that law firm is seriously starting to screw with him."  
  
"And you want to help him? Why?"  
  
"I don't know. Things have been happening so quickly recently, you know? Felt like everything's been outside my control. I wasn't myself for a while. Lost my memories and found some innocence. He cared for me and if I could have stayed like that I'd probably still be there. With him."  
  
"What makes everything so different now?"  
  
"We can't just play at happy little vampire family. There's too much between us."  
  
"What he's not willing to let go of all that torture and trying to kill him stuff?"  
  
There was no reply from Spike, which was answer enough.  
  
"It's you. You can't let go of all the bad things."  
  
"Yeah, you're right, it's me." He admitted.  
  
"Why? I mean you're the most forgiving person I know. Jees, when I think of all the times I beat up on you."  
  
"It's not that. Not the physical pain. It's just that...he always leaves. Always walks away from me."  
  
"Tell me about it." Buffy agreed fervently. "But not to take a chance cus you think you might lose it in the end is really stupid. At least you have a chance if you take it."  
  
"Yeah. I know. It's not just that. I don't have a place there. Here I have my role and I'm doing work I believe in. If I stayed with the gang I'd end up getting sucked into that whole evil thing. It's so subtle you don't realise you're trapped until the door slams shut behind you."  
  
"But you'd leave Angel there? By himself?"  
  
"I don't think I'm good for him. He clings like I'm the only thing he has left, and the things he's prepared to do to keep me safe weaken him. You know what he's like when he loves. He'd take on hell."  
  
"Yeah. Wait a minute. He loves you? I know 'many different kinds' blah, blah. But he...loves you?"  
  
"It's strange. When we ran as proper vampires we were like all the others only more so, possessive, protective, a strong blood bond running between us. The joy of the hunt and the pleasure of curling up as a family afterwards. It was kinship, blood and contentment. Now we've got souls and it's still demonic, still possessive but it's been confused with something slightly more human. Affection...love."  
  
"Like father and son?"  
  
"Yeah. That's as closest thing I can equate it to. Except with the drinking each other's blood and things."  
  
"Ew! You drink...? It sounds...intimate. Gross and intimate."  
  
"It is. Intimate, I mean, not gross. It gives a buzz, a high, which you only get from this sort of blood sharing, which we can get only from each other. When it happened it felt like...coming home. It also opened a link between us, I sort of get an idea of what he's feeling and he knows how I am."  
  
"Oh. Does he know I'm here?"  
  
"Nah. He can't read my mind or anything."  
  
"Good."  
  
"Don't give up on him, Buffy. He's still a good man. Just a bit lost, like we all get occasionally."  
  
"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I care about you both, you know that?"  
  
Spike nodded.  
  
"If he's lost don't you think it might be better if you were with him, you could help him keep perspective...keep him on the straight and narrow?"  
  
"I don't know what I should be doing. All I know is I can't leave him yet. He's...oh bloody hell!"  
  
He held his head and doubled over in pain.  
  
"Spike? Spike! Oh God! What's the matter? Have they given you a chip again?"  
  
"It's Angel. He's in trouble, not far away from here."  
  
"How do you know...you said you don't send messages down this mystic-y link. You can't possibly know. What about your slayers? You can't just abandon them."  
  
Spike was torn. His slayers might be able to handle the nest but not that vicious bitch who ruled them. He'd meant to be there to help and teach them. They couldn't possibly beat her. He'd wanted to see them wise up, not to send them to their deaths.  
  
He had a choice Buffy and his slayers, or his sire. He thought about it logically and there was no choice, humans always came first. He nodded to Buffy.  
  
"I'm sorry Buffy. Look after my slayers. Please?"  
  
Logic had damn all to do with it. He'd seen his sire huddled in a corner waiting to be staked. He raced down the street towards Angel. 


	8. Beginnings

Disclaimer: Nope, still not mine. Joss's and ME's. Hope they don't mind me playing with them.  
  
Summary: Angel realises how far he's strayed from his mission since his days at the Hyperion and is determined to fix it. He thinks he's alone but some unexpected allies are aligning themselves as Spike finally realises his purpose.

--------

**Beginnings**  
  
**Chapter 8  
**  
"Come on, Angelus. No fun if you won't fight." The vampire grinned down at him.  
  
"You want a fight. You're in luck, Liselle. So do I."  
  
She turned quickly, to see to see a black garbed figure outlined against the entrance of the alley.  
  
"Well, if it isn't little William, all grown up! You haven't changed a bit. Still the same weak little fledge I remember, always tucked safely under Angelus' wing." She stroked Angel's head, then viciously grabbed a handful of hair and lifted his face up.  
  
"But where are you going to hide now? He's all broken."  
  
"You haven't changed a bit either." Spike replied walking confidently towards her. "You always were stupid."  
  
He lashed out with his foot and kicked the stake out of her hand and with the follow through managed to manoeuvre himself in front of Angel.  
  
"And I don't hide."  
  
"Oh what a dear little one you are! Trying to protect your sire from someone who is older," she moved towards Spike, "stronger..." an uppercut knocked Spike to one side, "...and more vicious than anyone you'll ever meet." She gave a shrug. "Not that I expect you to be meeting anyone after I've finished with you."  
  
She punctuated her speech with a brutal backswing that sent Spike flying into the wall. He used the wall to propel himself forward feet first and launched into her bodily. She went down and he had the chance to end it. He looked across at Angel who appeared to be watching the fight without any emotional response. Liselle took advantage of his hesitation to recover her position and began to lay into Spike with punch after punch, his defence was weak and he was beginning to give ground.  
  
"You really shouldn't pick fights you can't possibly win, little one."  
  
She gave a spinning kick that cracked against his jaw and sent him flying into the wall. Without taking her eyes off the downed vampire she picked up her abandoned stake, her movements were leisurely and sure.  
  
"It was really nice seeing you again, William. But I'm afraid this is goodbye."  
  
Spike could only watch, wide-eyed as she drew back the stake.  
  
Only to explode into dust before his eyes. Revealing the powerful figure of his sire standing behind.  
  
"Goodbye." Angel said as he twitched the stake at Spike.  
  
"Never leave home without one."  
  
Spike let his human face emerge and shut his eyes to take a moment to calm himself.  
  
"Come on, Spike. You didn't really think I'd let that two bit vamp stake you, did you?"  
  
Spike shook his head, took the proffered hand and got to his feet.  
  
"You did it on purpose didn't you?" Angel offered conversationally. "Stopped fighting?"  
  
Still Spike said nothing.  
  
Angel suddenly vamped out and grabbed Spike by the front of his shirt and finally let his rage and frustration show.  
  
Rage at Spike, at Buffy, at the world. He leant close to Spike's ear and growled,  
  
"And supposing, I didn't recover in time. Supposing the bitch had staked you? Not yours, Spike. Your life is not yours to give away. Mine. Your life is mine." His golden eyes glowed with anger. He drew back slightly, only to strike with teeth and bite deep into his neck.  
  
Spike growled back and with a strength that belied his previously defeated stance he broke away from the other vampire's grasp. Leaving Angel gasping as he was ripped away, his bloody fangs gleaming.  
  
"Then next time, you fight! You're my sire. Mine! Next time, you defend yourself and you'd better frigging win cus you don't get to leave me. Not again." Spike raged. He dashed an arm across his face in distress.  
  
Angel felt the demonic rage slip away.  
  
"Spike?"  
  
"I thought I was going to be too late. I'd just started to get everything figured out and then...I thought you'd gone."  
  
"I'm here, Spike."  
  
"For how long this time?"  
  
"No one lives forever. Not even us."  
  
"You've never given up before. You've had a hundred years by yourself with nothing to live for but still survived."  
  
"I know." Angel's brow furrowed in confusion. "I don't know what happened. Everything seemed so dark."  
  
"It's that bloody place. It's seeping into you and corroding you. Eating away at you."  
  
"Maybe. But what can I do? I made a deal for my son and that still stands."  
  
"You need to spend some time away from there. We'll think of something."  
  
"We? You're not going to Italy?"  
  
Spike shot him a look.  
  
"If you're going to eavesdrop, may as well listen to the whole conversation."  
  
"Yeah..." Angel looked at the ground sheepishly.  
  
"Is she well?" He finally asked,  
  
"Yeah. You know, she always used to remind me of those old spinning tops when they're out of control, spinning fast and erratic around the centre, you wonder how they don't topple. She's not like that anymore. She's balanced. She's found her centre."  
  
"Uh huh. But has her cookie dough finished baking?"  
  
"She might be balanced but I worry about you sometimes, Peaches."  
  
Angel laughed.  
  
Spike looked at him.  
  
"You should try that more often."  
  
"You're good for me, Spike. You do know that don't you? Sometimes I fly to extremes, you pull me back. You keep me balanced. You make me laugh."  
  
"Make you laugh? Could have fooled me, you hate my humour."  
  
"On the outside. But I'm laughing inside."  
  
"You're one strange vampire."  
  
"Guess you do take after me then. Childe."  
  
"I suppose I could be your childe...when there's no one else around. Tell anyone and I bite you."  
  
Angel looked at the healing fang marks on Spike's neck.  
  
"You owe me one, anyway."  
  
"Look. I have to go..."  
  
"Yeah. I get it. Buffy. Uh...you never did answer my question about Italy..."  
  
"No, I didn't, did I? Anyway, must go...she'll be waiting for me." He grinned and left.  
  
After the stunt Angel had pulled tonight he deserved a bit of a wind up.  
  
Spike whistled softly to himself as he left. He finally had a sense of rightness - felt it in his bones. He'd made a good choice tonight when he'd chosen Angel. The scary vamp had found him instead of his slayers, which meant that the girls would have been ok facing the nest, particularly with Buffy watching over them.  
  
Spike returned to a houseful of chattering and hyped up slayers. He cast a glance at Buffy.  
  
"Was he really in trouble?" She asked quietly.  
  
"Yeah. He really was. So how did you get on?"  
  
"Your slayers did a good job, Spike." She replied in a voice loud enough to allow the slayers to hear her praise.  
  
"I dropped in to watch their style. They covered each other well and they're getting some fine moves together."  
  
"Yeah? Anyone hurt?"  
  
Two girls came forward. One had a couple of sutures crossing a cut that ran up her cheek. The other was limping.  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"I misjudged the reach of one of the big vamps. I ducked under him but was too slow; he managed to tear across my face. Before I staked him."  
  
Spike nodded.  
  
"And you?" He turned to the girl with the limp.  
  
"We were outnumbered and two of them came for me. I was concentrating on the closer one but the other swung in and kicked my legs out from under me. He threw himself on top and I managed to get the stake up so that he landed on it. Neesh got the other. She watched my back."  
  
Spike nodded again. Surveyed them all and gave a tight vicious smile that reminded Buffy of the pre-chip Spike.  
  
"That's my girls."  
  
They straightened almost to attention and returned his tight lipped smile. Buffy shivered, she grabbed Giles by the arm and dragged him into the kitchen.  
  
"Giles. He's going to be training our slayers right?"  
  
Giles nodded.  
  
"I think we're handing him an army. I saw them fight tonight. They were fighting for him. Because they thought he trusted them with this mission. In a few years' time he'll have a loyal, maybe unbeatable, army."  
  
"Buffy? Do you trust Spike?"  
  
She considered and slowly nodded.  
  
"Funny enough so do I and when I took him on here I always saw this potential. It's partly why we need him. We're just humans but he's something else. When you're lead by a supernatural being it lends the mission an authority, a sense of higher purpose. He can unify the slayers in a way you and I could not. He'll be a thread through the years. When we're gone he will still be here, making sure our original mission stays on track."  
  
"If he ever lost his soul..."  
  
"He'd still respect your wishes, Buffy. There's just something within him that's always been a little...human."  
  
"You see it too?"  
  
"Only with hindsight. It was a pre-soul Spike who stopped Angelus from torturing me and a pre-soul Spike who loved Drusilla for all those years...and I think you mean even more to him."  
  
"Sometimes, Giles, you can still surprise me."  
  
"Sometimes I surprise myself."  
  
"And wouldn't life be dull without any surprises?" She studied him. "You look a bit pooped; I'll put the kettle on and make you a nice cup of tea."  
  
"You make a 'nice' cup of tea? Now that would be a surprise. Thank you for your offer but actually, I am rather tired. I'll have a nightcap and then hit my bed."  
  
Spike popped his head around.  
  
"You two around tomorrow? Got things to discuss."  
  
"Couldn't you just tell us now?"  
  
"Uh, uh. I need you fresh and clear headed. Bring the boy too."  
  
"Spike? What is it?"  
  
"Tomorrow, Buffy." He replied as he left. - 

Angel spent the night wandering the streets, visiting some of his old haunts and talking to some of the contacts he knew from his previous life, until he finally ended up back at the Hyperion. He found himself sitting in Cordelia's chair and thinking, something he seemed to have so little time for these days. Wolfram & Hart kept him busy but he never seemed to get anywhere. Here in this place everything seemed just a little clearer. So many memories bound up here, so much had happened. Some good, some bad but all of it real, more real than fast cars, leather chairs and sunlit offices. He fell asleep in his old office, mulling over the changes.  
  
He awoke the following morning with an energy he hadn't felt for a while. Whether it was the rush of tasting family blood, being away from the corporate fold or just that he'd hit the bottom and now found himself rebounding back up, he couldn't say.  
  
He returned to his life with some of his old enthusiasm, immediately calling a meeting and waiting for the team to arrive. He templed his hands and watched them all file silently in. He had some bridges to rebuild.  
  
When they were all seated he began.  
  
"Firstly, Wesley, Fred, Gunn, I need to apologise. I'm sorry for threatening you. What can I say? I lost it. But we have to get over it. We have to pick up our work again."  
  
Gunn cleared his throat.  
  
"Pick up our work? We can't do much more, Boss. We're putting in twelve hour days as it is."  
  
"I'm not talking about Company business. I'm talking about why we're here. We're losing sight of our mission. We need to be more pro-active. You know, the way we used to work when times were quiet. If we had no cases and Cordelia had no visions we used to try to find the bad in the city. We should be look through newspapers and finding suspicious reports. Going out on the street and talking to our contacts, getting a feel for what's happening. What we should not be doing is sitting here and waiting for the Senior Partners to feed us whatever tidbits they want us to deal with."  
  
They looked at him in astonishment.  
  
"Angel? You seem different today. What's happened? Has Spike returned?" Wesley asked.  
  
"No, he hasn't. And you know? It's okay. I've realised, we're going to live a long time. One day, may be another hundred years down the line, he's going to need me again and I'm going to be here, still souled and still working my ass off on the side of good. And that's only going to happen if we stop letting ourselves be yanked around like puppets and start taking control. From now on, every day we're going to work on at least one case that hasn't been filtered down through Wolfram and Hart. We have to win back some of our integrity. So today we have a new beginning."  
  
Wesley nodded in approval.  
  
"Good plan. I like it, Angel. It makes sense."  
  
"Well...I have something, which is a little weird." Fred offered tentatively. "There have been these cases recently, all involving children. They're ending up in hospital, in a coma, with these horrible rictus grins frozen on their faces. Nobody knows what's causing it."  
  
Angel smiled at her. Of them all, she was the least affected by their transition to the Company.  
  
"That's great, Fred. This is just the sort of thing we need to investigate. Can you dig around and see what you can discover?"  
  
"On it." She replied.  
  
"I'll see what I can find out about them, too." Wesley said and got up to leave.  
  
Gunn stood by himself, looking at the floor. He needed to say something. He took a deep breath. "Uh...I have to tell you..." He looked up...to find that they had already left and he was standing alone.  
  
Angel walked into the lobby.  
  
"Hey, Nina. That time already."  
  
She nodded.  
  
"Yeah, I guess." She looked good, as usual.  
  
He liked seeing her; she was one of his successes. Not a Wolfram and Hart case, just a woman in trouble. Now technically a werewolf, so obviously not a 100% bona fide success.  
  
"I'll see you to your suite." He said with a smile, which she returned rather nervously. They walked down to the basement to a barred cell.  
  
"I'm getting to quite enjoy these visits." Nina said. "Well not the being locked in the cage but some bits...like seeing you."  
  
"I...umm." Angel stuttered.  
  
She caught his eye and continued, "I look forward to that."  
  
"I...uh...should probably shut the...uh...cage door now." Angel replied falling over his words as she looked up at him through her lashes.  
  
She could feel the moment slipping away and quickly carried on before she lost her nerve, letting her words tumble out.  
  
"And I was wondering what are you doing for breakfast tomorrow?"  
  
"Breakfast?" What was happening, couldn't she tell he the sort of guy he was.  
  
"Oh...you know...drinking blood." He fumbled awkwardly.  
  
Nina nodded in embarrassment.  
  
"Of course. Yes. I understand."  
  
"I have to lock the door ..." He gave a nervous laugh.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Insurance purposes. Well. Bye."  
  
She felt so stupid as she watched him rush from her cell.  
  
He felt like an idiot as he almost ran back up the stairs.

-

"So Spike. What's this urgent meeting for?" Giles asked as they settled into the privacy of the basement room.  
  
"You know you told me that if I stayed here it would maybe give me a chance to find myself? Find my place in the world?"  
  
Giles nodded.  
  
"I've found it." Spike said, "And I don't belong here."  
  
Giles looked at Buffy and then back to the blonde vampire.  
  
"What does that mean? Are you going back to Europe with Buffy?  
  
"No." He glanced at Buffy. "Much as I'd like to..."  
  
"Then what are you talking about?"  
  
"I'm just saying, being here isn't my place."  
  
The others stared at him in surprise.  
  
"But, Spike. Who else can teach the slayers? I mean, not just all the ninja fighting skills, but everything! You can't leave us...them." Andrew protested.  
  
"I think you'd better explain." Giles told him.  
  
"Didn't realise at first. You remember how I was, there were so many victims screaming in my head, I didn't notice at first that some victims weren't mine. They were happening in the present and I didn't realise." He hung his head.  
  
"What didn't you realise, Spike?"  
  
"Didn't realise that I was having visions."  
  
"How...?" Buffy started.  
  
"Why...?" Giles spoke at the same time.  
  
"Yeah. Good questions. I've only got vague memories of Prom Queen..."  
  
They looked at him in confusion.  
  
"That Cordelia bint?"  
  
Andrew frowned and made as if to speak. Spike cut him off.  
  
"She was a seer. Came to us the day before she died. Must have passed the visions on to me."  
  
"Good heavens! So you're having visions. But that's good. It can only help us in our quest..."  
  
Spike shook his head.  
  
"No, Rupert. The visions, so far, have all involved Angel and his people. I'm Angel's seer."  
  
"Is that how you knew Angel was in danger last night?" Buffy asked.  
  
"Yeah. You know, I was torn about which way to jump but in the end I followed the vision and it turned out to be the right thing to do. My slayers proved themselves and I got to Peaches in time."  
  
Giles took off his glasses and looked down at them as if examining them for flaws.  
  
"Is this what you wanted to tell us? Because I have to say it's a blow."  
  
"No, I wanted to discuss something else. If the Powers That Be are sending me visions for Angel then that must mean he's still their champion. Yeah?"  
  
"Well, yes. You're point being?"  
  
"My point being that, despite the choices he's made, its time for you to accept that he still wears a white hat."  
  
"So he's not evil...yet."  
  
"With a bit of support and encouragement he might actually make it through and out the other side."  
  
"What do we need to do?" Buffy asked. Spike smiled at her, she always came through for him.  
  
"It's about connection. Wolfram and Hart have isolated him, we need to pull him back. I'll help Angel, but I'm not going to work for the lawyers. I'd actually like to continue training my slayers."  
  
"Well, I don't see a problem with that." Giles said in some relief.  
  
"My terms are that you include Angel. He may not agree to it but you have to see how useful he could be. He used to study the old lore, I doubt if you'll ever meet anyone who knows as much about demons and rituals as he does."  
  
"Spike...I'm not sure..."  
  
"What is the problem? We've already agreed he's a champion."  
  
"He works for Wolfram and Hart and..."  
  
"When he loses his soul he becomes Angelus." Buffy clarified. "He'd destroy the whole system we've been putting in place, probably within his first couple of days."  
  
"Ok. First point. Have you thought that the Wolfram and Hart contact might be useful? The Council lost their library recently, yeah? Well the lawyers have access to just about every ancient text in existence. Put it to use. Use the contact. If you act quickly you might be able to get copies of your lost information before the Senior Partners even realise what you're doing."  
  
Giles nodded thoughtfully.  
  
"Yes, I can see that. But what about the second point? What about Angelus?"  
  
"Buffy could you take Angelus out?"  
  
"Maybe. I'm not sure."  
  
"Ok. Do you think you and I together could take Angelus?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"In a year's time I'm going to have eight fully trained slayers. Myself and eight Buffy clones. Do you think we could take him?"  
  
"You'd be toying with him." Buffy replied.  
  
Andrew frowned.  
  
"Angel will be training the slayers. Supposing..." he glanced nervously at Buffy, "...they like him so much that when he turns 'grrr' they hesitate taking him down."  
  
Giles removed his glasses and massaged his forehead with his fingers.  
  
"It is a possibility, Buffy. You have to admit."  
  
"Supposing they don't have to stake him, just disable him? We could make it a part of their training." Spike suggested.  
  
"Yes. Put protocols in place for just such an emergency." Andrew agreed. "Teach them how to render him inoperative if he turns all evil again."  
  
"What do you think?" Giles asked looking at Buffy.  
  
"I think we've got all our bases covered. You've got to admit he'd be valuable. And if it helps to save him then I have no choice. I say we go for it."  
  
"Spike, do you honestly think we can pull Angel back from the brink?"  
  
"I'm almost certain of it."  
  
"What about the others? Wesley and the others?"  
  
"I think the Senior Partners are still busy finding a lever for each of them. Although I doubt if the girl, Fred, has one. They're planning to kill her. This is why I have to return. I can help."  
  
"We're here to look after the slayers not to save souls."  
  
Giles looked at Andrew, waiting for him to speak. Despite his overblown rhetoric he sometimes had insight.  
  
"I agree with Buffy, we should do it." Andrew said. "As I understand it, the first act of the original Watchers was an act of cruelty, when they chained up the girl and forced her to accept the demon spirit. And control of the slayers through the ages has been achieved through tyranny."  
  
"That's pretty much how I'd describe it." Buffy agreed.  
  
Andrew swelled with confidence at having her support.  
  
"I don't know the Vampyre Angel or his cohorts personally. But I do know we're at the beginning of a new age for the Council, we're attempting to build something here, something good. We should show our faith in the higher powers that guide us. Spike has been put here, at this time and in this place, for a purpose. And I believe it's so that we can prove what we can be and give direction to our future. Let our first act be one of mercy and of faith." He pleaded.  
  
"If we turn our backs on these souls then our group will always be tainted by original sin, just as the first watchers' coercion, tainted all that followed. I think this choice has been sent to us as a test and we need to prove ourselves, we need to rise to the challenge. Also I've thought of a really cool logo – sort of like the Charlie's Angels one. Three girls, but they'll each be holding stakes and in front we should have Spike and Angel, crouched back-to-back in full vampire face, guarding the girls, protecting each other and, you know, it wouldn't look so good with just Spike."  
  
Spike bit back a sarcastic comment, after all, the boy had come through for him and when he thought about it...  
  
"You're right that would look pretty cool."  
  
"Well, thank you, Spike." Andrew smiled.  
  
It was left to Giles to roll his eyes.  
  
"I have my doubts but, God help me, I find myself agreeing with much of what Andrew said. We define ourselves by our actions."  
  
"Does that mean we're agreed, then?" Spike asked.  
  
The other three nodded.  
  
"Agreed. Was there anything else you wished to discuss?"  
  
"Well yeah, actually..."  
  
Anyone passing the door might have been able to make out Giles voice raised to an unaccustomed level, as he asked incredulously.  
  
"You want us to do what!"

-

"Okay, Fred. What have we got?" Angel asked.  
  
"Children's epidemic. Seven kids, comatosed, each with a semi-rictus of the facial muscles. I haven't been able to isolate a causative agent."  
  
"You think it's mystical?"  
  
"Well, I've been down the strictly physiological route, number-crunched all the victims' charts, even had our hospital contacts send over blood samples. I've pulled all their plasma apart. No indicators on the cellular or subcellular levels.  
  
Angel flipped through the files.  
  
"TV."  
  
"What?  
  
"Parents said all the kids collapsed between 7:00 and... looks like 7:30 a.m. And all of them in front of the TV."  
  
"Huh. That could be something, but I'd still like to get a handle on the pathology."  
  
"Good. I'll—I'll follow up on this lead. I'll need to clear my schedule. These kids need help." Angel said as he hurried from the lab.  
  
"Wow." She turned towards Wesley. "He really jumped on that one."  
  
"Yes, he is a bit jumpy. He's realized Nina has feelings for him."  
  
"Well, took long enough." Fred grinned.  
  
"He can be rather dense."  
  
"Um..." Fred smiled at Wesley, "by the way, my car is in the shop again, and I was thinking..."  
  
"Of course." Wesley picked up the phone.  
  
Fred gave him a flirty smile and attempted to finish her sentence, "Maybe you and I, we could..."  
  
Wesley held up his hand and smiled back, as he talked into the phone.  
  
"Yes, Ms. Burkle needs a driver to take her home tonight. That's right. 511 Windward Circle."  
  
Fred sighed. She must really suck at this flirting thing.

-

"You want us to buy you a house?" Giles asked, slightly more calmly.  
  
"Look, I could be working for you for the next thousand years. The least you can do is buy me a sodding place to call my own. Don't be so bloody stingy Rupert. I know that you've got access to all those Council funds, so why make a big deal out of it?"  
  
"It's the principle of it! You've worked with us for what – a week?"  
  
"I just need somewhere I can down my blood in private, a room where the bints aren't going to burst in on me and a safe place I can take Angel to. Don't want the evil ones to have a hand in it, so I'm asking you to find me somewhere and ward it, make it a place where we can't be influenced or manipulated. This is an act of trust on my part, Rupert. I'm asking you cus I trust you. The three of you. Right?"  
  
"How far is Angel under their influence?" Buffy asked in concern.  
  
"He's fighting it but he works there all day and his apartment is the pent house above the offices. He never leaves the damned place. He's so involved that he's become blinkered. They've put him on to a hamster wheel and then just set him away. Letting him run his heart out and get nowhere."  
  
"Welcome to corporate life. It's called a treadmill, Spike and 95% of adults in the western world are trapped on it."  
  
"No. Well yeah...but it's more than that. It's insidious. He needs time away from the place."  
  
"I don't like to throw a spanner in the works but after all that's happened, do you think he'll agree to it?"  
  
"I'll leave him no choice." Spike replied grimly. "So? Your decision?"  
  
Buffy and Giles exchanged a glance, Buffy nodded and Giles spoke.  
  
"Fine. You win. We'll find a place and we'll make it safe. And we'll provisionally invite Angel to join us on a freelance basis."  
  
"Cheers. Nice doing business with you."  
  
"I'm not sure about doing business." Giles muttered. "But I have a definite feeling that I've been done."

-

Angel met with the others to discuss where they were with the case. The contrast to this morning was remarkable as they laughed and chattered. Then he realised what they were laughing at as he heard Lorne's voice.  
  
"Oh the signals were there. Nina definitely wants a piece of Angelcake."  
  
"Can we just get back to the job in hand." Angel pleaded.  
  
Lorne gave a nod and examined the photos of the eerily grinning children and then started to flick through the file.  
  
"Oh. 7.00 to 7.30 in the morning? This would be funny, I mean, if it wasn't..."  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"A really popular children's show. It's the right timeslot. Hits the right demographics."  
  
"What's it called?" Angel asked.  
  
Lorne held up a picture of one of the children.  
  
"Smile Time."  
  
"So it looks like the cause could be mystical. Okay. I'll investigate the studio."  
  
"I still think it may have a more mundane source, so I'll continue examining it from that angle." Fred replied.  
  
"I'll hit the books and see if I can discover any similar occurrences." Wes said.  
  
They turned to Gunn, who had been unusually quiet. He realised they were looking at him.  
  
"Right and I...I'll..." He looked at Fred.  
  
"And I need to tell you something." He said quietly. "There's something else we need to be working on too."  
  
"This is great. Go on, Gunn." Angel enthused.  
  
"No...not so much of the great. I've done something stupid. No...more than stupid. I've done something...we need to fix it."  
  
"What is it?" Wesley asked.  
  
"You know my upgrade?" They nodded. "It's been downgrading for a while now. I've been losing bits and pieces of knowledge. A date here, a name there. Then I began to make mistakes. I went and got it checked out yesterday. They could fix it. For a price."  
  
"What was the price?" Angel asked he knew this couldn't be good.  
  
"All they wanted was my signature. Sign a form to allow some relic through customs."  
  
"And you did it."  
  
"I did it." Gunn agreed.  
  
"But how could you? I mean these relic things are so dangerous. And if Wolfram and Hart want it, I'm pretty sure we don't. I mean it could do anything. What were you thinking?" Fred asked in concern.  
  
"I was thinking that I liked being smart, that I liked getting respect. Anyway, not sure it's the Senior Partners, the way this doctor guy was behaving, all sneaky and secretive; I'd say it's his own personal agenda."  
  
"No you're wrong. People may think they're acting of their own volition but I believe everything in this place comes back to manipulation. We're all just puppets." Wesley said.  
  
"I don't know, maybe you're right. Anyway," Gunn took a deep breathe. "I've found out what the relic does."  
  
"And that is?" Angel asked tensely.  
  
"It kills Fred."  
  
Wesley had the powerful black man bent backwards across the desk, hands around his throat. Gunn made no move to defend himself.  
  
"Wesley. Let him go." Angel ordered.  
  
"He's going to kill Fred." Wesley hissed.  
  
"No. He's not. Like you just said he's been manipulated. But all that's really happened so far is that he's uncovered a plot to kill Fred. If they hadn't gone to him they would have found another way to get to her. Now let go of Gunn. NOW!"  
  
Wesley slowly backed off.  
  
"If she dies..."  
  
"She's not going to die." Angel turned to Fred. "You're ok, we've found out in time. You're not going to die."  
  
She was staring at them all, open mouthed in shock. Wesley realised and went to her.  
  
"You're not going to die, Fred. We'd never let that happen to you."  
  
She looked up at him.  
  
"Kiss me, Wes." She asked.  
  
"Oh, Fred!" He pulled her close and kissed her as though their lives depended on it.  
  
Angel coughed.  
  
"Right. What we have to do is trace this thing, find out where it came from and where it's being stored. Fred you're to have nothing to do with it. I don't want you within a hundred yards of that thing. Wesley and Gunn, you work on it together. Gunn you're to share with Wes everything you know. We need that information. Meanwhile, Fred and I will try to find out what's happening with these children. Ok?"  
  
They all nodded.  
  
"Right. Lets go to it."

-

Spike suddenly clutched his head. "Bloody hell!"  
  
"Again?" Buffy asked in concern.  
  
"Looks like." He groaned shaking his head as though he was trying to shake the pain off.  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"Puppets...puppets on TV. Kid touching the TV screen. Oh God...stealing...stealing their life force."  
  
"Puppets?"  
  
"Yeah. A dog, a kid with a baseball hat and this really annoying thing that keeps hooting."  
  
"You mean Smile Time? Not that I've watched it...well not deliberately." She qualified. "You know. Just sometimes a bit buzzy after a night of slayage and used to switch on the TV for half hour. Anyway, Smile Time."  
  
Spike thought of the kid falling back from the TV with that parody of a smile on his face.  
  
"Yeah. That would make a nasty sort of sense. Can you find out where the studios are? It's time to let Angel know he's a champion again."  
  
Buffy moved towards the computer and started a search."  
  
Spike meanwhile attempted to contact Angel. He rang his mobile and was just going to give up when it clicked into life.  
  
"Spike? Everything ok?"  
  
"Yeah. Look I don't want you asking any dumb questions you just need to get yourself to..." he looked at Buffy in query.  
  
"Got it." She directed Spike's attention to the screen.  
  
"Ok. The KTCE studio at..."  
  
"Already ahead of you. Just pulling up now."  
  
"Yeah? How? Well, good. Hang on, I'm on way - don't go in without me. I'll explain when I get there."  
  
Buffy looked at him.  
  
"I thought this was Angel's gig?"  
  
"He's already on the way. So I figure it's me they're trying to drag there. Anyway, I'm beginning to think it's not safe to let him out on his own."  
  
Buffy looked at him in amusement.  
  
"He's a big boy now, Spike. All grown-up."  
  
"Too damned grown-up. When I'm his seer, and I've got him used to doing as I say, there will be a little less brood and a bit more fun."  
  
"Which alternate reality do you live in?"  
  
She wrote down the address, before logging off. "Here. Will you be ok?"  
  
"Yeah. William the Bloody and Angelus together again, what could go wrong?"  
  
"Right. Catch you in the morning." She yawned.  
  
Spike picked up Giles' car keys and headed off.  
  
The street outside the studio perimeter was dark and deserted. Except for the incongruous sight of a shiny Viper parked carelessly, half on the sidewalk. No sign of the dark haired vampire. Spike cursed and scaled the high fence landing lightly in the studio lot. He could just make out a dark figure skulking near the doors.  
  
"I told you to wait for me." Spike hissed.  
  
"I did." Angel told him.  
  
"How did you know..." They both began. Spike nodded at Angel, encouraging him to answer first.  
  
"Fred noticed these weird reports in the papers. We did a bit of research and came up with this. You?"  
  
"You know the Prom Queen? I remember her from Sunnyhell. She wasn't a seer then, was she?"  
  
"What?" Angel looked at him, not quite getting the connection between his question and Spike's reply. Then he realised that Spike was serious and waiting for a reply..  
  
"No she wasn't. Doyle was. He was dying and passed the visions to Cordelia with a kiss."  
  
"Uh huh. So Cordelia, that day she returned, the day she was really dying, did she kiss anyone?"  
  
Angel thought back. He had been pleased to see her but they hadn't actually kissed.  
  
"I'm trusting that you're going somewhere with this. And the answer is no, we didn't kiss."  
  
"Not talking about you. Was there anyone else?"  
  
"Well apart from the peck on the mouth she gave you. Not really a kiss, more a sympathy thing..."  
  
Spike just looked at him as though expecting him to get something, and finally realisation struck.  
  
"Spike? How did you know to come here?"  
  
"You know she could have bloody asked. Supposing I didn't want to be tied to you forever?"  
  
"Forever?"  
  
"You'd better start listening to me, mate. When your seer says jump you ask 'how high?' right?"  
  
His poor old sire must be really feeling his age tonight. His forehead was furrowed and he kept repeating himself.  
  
"You're my seer?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"You have to stay with me?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"And you're my seer?"  
  
"Still yes."  
  
"I'm still a champion?"  
  
"Angel?"  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"We'll talk about it later, yeah? Meanwhile, down to business?"  
  
They broke into the KTCE building, heading towards a section marked "Closed Set. Absolutely NO VISITORS". They walked noiselessly down the empty office hallway. Spike tapped Angel's shoulder and they both listened to a squeaking sound coming towards them. A janitor came into view, pushing a wheeled trashcan around the corner. They stood frozen to the spot, expecting to be challenged, but the janitor walked past them without noticing. Angel waved his hand in front of the man's face, but got no reaction. The janitor simply continued on his way.  
  
"Now that was weird." Spike commented and Angel nodded in agreement.  
  
They finally found the "Smile Time" offices, which were decorated with a smiling sun and cardboard cut outs of the show's puppets. Whilst Spike had a poke around, Angel investigated a throbbing rumble coming from somewhere nearby. He looked around the room, following the noise until he saw a rattling file cabinet on one wall.  
  
"Hey." He called to Spike. "Got something."  
  
They moved the cabinet away from the wall to reveal a hole, cut in the wall behind. The rumbling noise grew louder. They glanced at each other and Angel walked through the hole into the secret hall beyond it.  
  
As Angel flipped on a buzzing light, Spike went on ahead, the rumbling sound growing louder and louder, until he found himself standing in front of a set of doors at the end of the hall, with a label, which simply read, "Don't".  
  
"Yeah. Right." Spike muttered as he twisted the padlock off the door and pushed it open.  
  
Angel caught up and they cautiously entered the room beyond. At the far end, they saw a man sat, hunched over resting his elbows on his knees and wearing a towel over his head. He appeared to be sitting underneath a large, metallic, egg-shaped, glowing thing. Angel approached the man, but got no response. Suddenly, the man's hands started twitching, and he struggled to speak.  
  
"You shouldn't... be here." His voice was weak as though coming from a great distance.  
  
"Angel..." Spike warned directing his gaze above the man.  
  
The rumbling sound had increased and the egg shaped thing was beginning to slit open along its bottom curve, white light poured from the gash. It opened wider until it formed a bright, glowing, crescent-shaped opening. When the "smile" was fully formed, there was a flash of light and a sudden jolt of power, which threw the two vampires across the room and, into some boxes that were stacked against the wall. The metal oval object stopped smiling, and the rumbling noise returned to a dull roar. Angel shook off the boxes and looked at his hands.  
  
Spike stared in astonishment.  
  
In front of him was a puppet and as it pulled free of the boxes it revealed that it looked a lot like Angel. Black hair sticking straight up, wearing the same clothes and the familiar black leather duster.  
  
It appeared to be looking at its hands in confusion.  
  
"Angel?"  
  
The puppet looked up at him.  
  
"Oh god, it's really you! You're a wee little puppet man!" Spike finally burst out gleefully.  
  
Angel's voice cut through his gales of laughter,  
  
"Spike? Have you seen yourself?"  
  
Spike took a glance down at himself and closed his eyes.  
  
"Oh! Bloody hell." 


	9. Education

**_Disclaimer:_**

Nope, still not mine. Joss's and ME's. Hope they don't mind me playing with them.  
  
**_Summary:_**

Everyone is working to help Angel and Spike overcome their puppet status, whilst searching for more information regarding the threat to Fred.

-

**Education**  
  
**Chapter 9  
**  
Angel pulled out his mobile to call Fred. His clumsy, felt fingers jabbed ineffectually at the keypad.  
  
"Piece of useless crap!" He ranted and threw it to the ground in frustration."  
  
"Ooh. Who's a Mister Grumpy Pants?"  
  
"Spike, you talk like a frigging puppet one more time and I'll rip your head off."  
  
"Wonder if I'd poof into dust or whether we'd just be able to sew it back on again?"  
  
Angel eyed his neck speculatively, Spike caught the look.  
  
"Oy! Just thinking out loud."  
  
"I can't call anyone, I'll have to drive. Probably best if we stick together, so if you'll just be quiet – let me concentrate."  
  
Spike climbed in and for once didn't bother arguing about who should take the driver's side. He watched as the LA night life passed by, changing from the desolate studio lots, to bright lights, noisy traffic and seething humanity.  
  
"You realise they're hooting their horns at you?" Spike commented. "Why are you driving so slowly? This journey is going to take all night."  
  
"Yeah well. Stupid puppet hands won't grip the steering wheel properly so I've got to take it slowly." Angel grouched.  
  
"Tell me about it, can't have a smoke without burning a hole in my hand. It's really starting to piss me off."  
  
"I am way beyond pissed. I'm gonna be scaring up some answers when we get back."  
  
"Not so much of the scaring, I'm thinking."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Face it, at the moment, you couldn't intimidate a mouse. You're a puppet. You're...cute, with cute sticky up hair. And I did not say that. Ummm...do I still look scary?"  
  
Angel looked at him.  
  
"Well try sticking your nose back on, perhaps that would help."  
  
"My nose comes off?" He felt his face frantically.  
  
"My sodding nose comes off! I really hate this. Fix me!" He demanded.

**-**

Gunn had his jacket off, his sleeves rolled up and a couple of dots of some reddish brown substance marring the pristine white of his shirt.  
  
Wesley looked up as he entered the office.  
  
"Did you find the doctor?"  
  
"In the end. As we thought, he'd already cleared his desk. So, got an address from Personnel and managed to catch myself a little fishy just as he was about to skip the pond."  
  
"Good. Is he here?"  
  
"Yeah. I've already had a little talk with him. You know, he honestly thought that when I threatened him I was talking about lawsuits?" Gunn sounded incredulous. "I taught him the errors of his way."  
  
"I take it you persuaded him to talk?"  
  
"You 'take' right, man. It's some story but I got a name out of him. Illyria. Apparently Illyria was one of the Old Ones and they were planning to bring him...her...it back. I tried to discover who 'they' were, but he reckoned all contact was made anonymously, using code names. But he did say that the person in charge of the op was here, at Wolfram and Hart."  
  
"Well, at least that's something to go on. I want all other projects put on hold, researching this Illyria and any reference to the Old Ones is now our top priority. We need to find who's organised this so get Lorne in, he's got a long night ahead of him. I want every member of staff singing."  
  
"I'm on it." Gunn hesitated. "So are we alright then? Me and you?"  
  
Wesley put his glasses back on as though placing a physical barrier between them, and looked Gunn clearly in the eyes.  
  
"You know, I now understand exactly how Angel felt when I took, Spike. Frankly, I'm astonished that we're still alive. So ask me again, at the end, when Fred is safe, maybe then I'll be as forgiving as he is. Meanwhile, we work together, like Angel said." They sat in silence for a while, contemplating their bizarre situation.

**-**

"I haven't got time for this." Angel gestured at his puppet body. "I need to find out what's happening with the kids, me and you need to talk and then there's Fred."  
  
"Fred? Is she ok? Don't tell me the bloody git did it!"  
  
"You know?"  
  
"One of my first visions ... half thought it was a bad dream, one nightmare in many, but I warned him anyway."  
  
"You warned Gunn? Huh. Could have warned us."  
  
"If I'd known...but I didn't, not for sure."  
  
"He told us what he'd done; we're working on fixing it."  
  
"Angel? I'd do anything for that girl. If I can help..."  
  
"Yeah, I know, I appreciate it." Angel replied his voice thickening slightly.  
  
"We'll save her."  
  
"I know we will. I can't lose her too."  
  
They approached some traffic lights.  
  
"Do want to go back to the slayer house or back with me?"  
  
"Well, I'll be damned if I'm letting the bints see me like this and I'll have to cancel tomorrow's training anyway, they'll knock the bloody stuffing out of me. Literally. I'll go back with you."  
  
The Wolfram and Hart building was quiet and they walked quickly up to Angel's office without being seen.  
  
"I'll get Fred up here; she's working late on this thing."  
  
They both looked at the telephone in bemusement.  
  
"A pencil." Angel said.  
  
"Yeah, good idea. Write her a note and then run down and deliver it." He wanted to roll his eyes but couldn't.  
  
"No." Angel grabbed a pencil and used it to punch in Fred's extension.  
  
"Okay...Clever Clogs."  
  
"Remember, puppet talk. Head goes."  
  
Spike made the gesture of a zipped up mouth.  
  
Angel directed his attention back to the phone.  
  
"Fred..."  
  
"Oh, hi, Angel. Listen, about the epidemic, it might not be mystical after all."  
  
"Do you think you could— "  
  
Fred interrupted him.  
  
"Knox found a systematic, endocrine dysfunction, common with all the children, similar to the effects of an obscure rain-forest pathogen—"  
  
"Fred..."  
  
She continued to talk over Angel.  
  
"...So I put a call in to the C.D.C., And..."  
  
"Fred!" Angel finally shouted.  
  
Fred stopped talking, and Angel spoke in a softer voice, but couldn't entirely mask his irritation.  
  
"Believe me, it's mystical. Whoever is still here, Wes, Gunn, Lorne, get them up here now."  
  
He hung up.  
  
"I don't want them to see me." Spike said unhappily.  
  
He looked so pathetic; Angel felt sorry for him and did his best to reassure him.  
  
"It's ok Spike, we'll face them together."  
  
Fred poked her head around the door. Angel was sitting in his chair, with his back turned away from the doorway.  
  
She entered the office closely followed by Gunn, Wesley and Lorne.  
  
"You sounded weird on the phone. Is there a problem?"  
  
"Oh, there's a problem."  
  
He turned around in his office chair so that the gang can see him in puppet form.  
  
Gunn stepped back.  
  
"Whoa."  
  
"Angel? Is that...you?" Wesley asked as he inspected the puppet curiously.  
  
"Oh, my God!" Fred exclaimed rushing to his side. "Angel, you're...adorable!"  
  
She bent over and examined Angel's new form excitedly. "Oh, but the little hands! And the hair..."  
  
She couldn't resist petting his hair.  
  
"Hey! You're fired." Angel snapped.  
  
Lorne breezed in.  
  
"Sorry I'm late, gang." He noticed Angel. "What's with the big... puppet?"  
  
Angel looked down at his hands.  
  
Wesley took pity on him.  
  
"Tell us, Angel, what happened?"  
  
"I'm not sure. I went over to Smile Time last night, met up with Spike and I think their office is under some kind of spell. We met this guy with a towel over his head, and something exploded! I woke up like this. Ugh."  
  
"Spike was with you? Is he affected as well?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Where is he?"  
  
Angel made a downward motion with his head.  
  
Wesley shook his head, not comprehending.  
  
Angel sighed.  
  
"He's under the desk."  
  
"He's...? Uh...Spike why don't you just come out?" Wesley asked softly.  
  
"Sod off."  
  
"Why won't he come out?" Lorne asked, curiosity getting the better of him.  
  
"He's lost his nose." Angel replied sadly.  
  
They all looked at each other desperately trying to keep their laughter contained. Gunn snorted and tried to turn it into a cough.  
  
"I heard that! And I'm not coming out."  
  
Fred came forward and knelt next to the desk well.  
  
"Hey, Spike. You're alright; I'll make you a new one."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Promise." She smiled and led Spike out by his little felt hand.  
  
Everyone shifted uncomfortably.  
  
"Clearly some sort of hex... or a—a powerful warding magic."  
  
Lorne shrugged, "Maybe it's some type of puppet cancer."  
  
Angel gritted his teeth  
  
"We do not have puppet cancer! Come on, guys. This is a serious situation. We're puppets, and there are children's lives at..."  
  
He suddenly looked at the clock.  
  
"Hey, it's Smile Time!"  
  
He picked up the remote control and started grumbling as, once again, buttons defeated him. He began to beat it on the table, becoming increasingly petulant and panting in temper.  
  
Everyone stared at him in amazement.  
  
"What?"  
  
"This transformation may have altered your stress-response mechanism." Wesley surmised.  
  
"What?"  
  
"He's saying that you and Spike have the proportionate excitability of a puppet your size." Gunn translated.  
  
"No. Spike's always like that."  
  
Fred left, to ensure she got the episode recorded for later analysis.  
  
"Anyway, how are you getting on with the Fred thing?"  
  
Spike turned to Gunn.  
  
"I warned you, I mean how much clearer could I make it? You really are a brainless git. No wonder they chose you for the intellect boost."  
  
"You can't call me anything that I haven't already called myself."  
  
"You wanna bet?"  
  
Angel was interested to note that, even in puppet form, Spike could still raise one eyebrow.  
  
"That's enough you two. Just tell us you've got some good news."  
  
"We do have some encouraging news." Wesley said. "But what exactly did Spike mean about warning Gunn?"  
  
"I didn't tell you how I found out that it was Fred they were after. It was Spike, he told me." Gunn admitted.  
  
"Really and how exactly did you know?" He asked turning to Spike.  
  
"It came to him in a dream." Gunn replied for him.  
  
"Didn't it strike you as remotely suspicious? Lorne has spent the night looking for our traitor, don't you think this might have been classed as relevant information?"  
  
"You what?" Spike exploded indignantly. "You think I...?"  
  
"Be quiet Spike. I did not give you permission to speak."  
  
"Wesley, you've got it wrong."  
  
"You're blinded to him, Angel and I suggest you keep your distance."  
  
"Wes, listen to me. He's a seer. Cordelia passed the visions on to him. Its how he knew to find me at the studios last night."  
  
"Is that what he told you?"  
  
"Yes." Spike replied coldly. "And if you want to take issue with it then you can take it up with me. Here. Now."  
  
"You're a puppet, Spike."  
  
"I am a killer vampire puppet. Percy. You think you can intimidate me? And for your next trick, you're what? Gonna teach your Grandmother to suck eggs?"  
  
"Don't push him, Wesley. He's soft but incredibly strong."  
  
Spike shook his head.  
  
"Please don't help me anymore, Peaches."  
  
"What?"  
  
"You make him sound like a roll of toilet paper." Gunn said.  
  
Spike let out a growl.  
  
"But quality toilet paper." He quickly amended.  
  
"For God sake! We're working to find out who's trying to kill Fred. And you're acting like you're on the bloody Muppet Show. At least you two have an excuse; your emotional reactions have been screwed. Gunn, could you at least concentrate on the problem in hand. Spike, I'm taking a leap of faith here and accepting you have visions, simply because such a lie would be far too convoluted for you. So, would you please take me through your vision, we may be able to glean some clues. And in future can we share all the relevant information relating to a case?"  
  
They nodded, all looking suitably chastened.  
  
"Right, Spike."  
  
"There wasn't much. Gunn signed something and got zapped with his booster. Then Gunn and Knox were arguing, there was this old looking sarcophagus between them and somehow I knew it was now empty. Knox produced a bit of paper and told Gunn, 'it's your fault, you signed it.' The next thing I see is Fred in her death throes and suddenly her soul has gone, there's nothing left of her. Just an empty shell of a body."  
  
"Why were they arguing?"  
  
"Don't know...I think they were blaming each other for her death. I suppose Knox must have accepted the sarcophagus into the lab but it was Gunn who got it through customs. Strange, Knox didn't seem upset when he waved the paper at Gunn. He seemed...smug."  
  
"That does tend to be his normal demeanour so I wouldn't read too much into that. You say there was nothing left of Fred, not even a soul."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"This doesn't make sense. Who would hate Fred enough to destroy her soul?"  
  
"Not hate. A source of energy?" Gunn speculated.  
  
"That's possible." Wesley agreed. "A soul is an extremely powerful catalyst."  
  
Angel thought about the rituals he knew.  
  
"It's mainly used in life for life exchanges, that's why that sort of magic is based around a sacrifice, partly the life force but mainly the soul."  
  
"And they are trying to bring back this Illyria, so I'm thinking that they plan to burn up Fred's soul to achieve it." Gunn concluded.  
  
"There are far too many unknowns, we need some concrete information." Wesley frowned. "Lorne, how are you getting on?"  
  
"I'm working on my side of it." Lorne said rather tiredly, this was really taking its toll. "And I still have hundreds of more to listen to, so I'm going to get back to it. Really, is it too much to ask to have one employee who can hold a tune, or is being tone deaf a prerequisite for employment here?" He complained as he walked out the door.  
  
"I'll join you, I'm curious as to Knox's part in the vision. I want to be there when he sings."  
  
"Hang on. I have to phone Giles, so you may as well talk to him, get his lot researching this too." 

**-**

Giles answered the phone.  
  
He looked slightly relieved.  
  
"Spike, where are you? Are you alright?"  
  
He listened intently.  
  
"A puppet? Well, I'm sure we all feel like that sometimes and you even more so. What with the Senior Partners and the Powers That Be. Then your experiences with the First last year I can quite see..."  
  
"You're made of felt and you've lost your nose? I see. I haven't got time for this, Spike. You should really know better. I suggest you call me again when you're sober." He hung up the phone.  
  
He was disappointed. To think he'd actually started to consider Spike as a, more or less, mature and trustworthy individual.  
  
The phone rang again.  
  
"Spike, I really...Oh. Wesley."  
  
"An actual puppet?"  
  
"Good heavens."  
  
"I see..."  
  
"Oh dear. Yes, very distressing for them."  
  
"If that's what he wants then, of course, I won't say anything."  
  
"Fred? I've never actually met her but anything I can do to help."  
  
"Illyria? No, I don't recall and I'm afraid I have very few books available to me but I do still have some useful contacts and I will certainly find out what I can."  
  
"Yes, nice speaking with you too. I will certainly do my best. Please do give my sympathies to Spike and Angel."  
  
"Oh. Could you ask Spike where he left my car this time?"  
  
He grabbed a pencil and began to scribble on the pad next to the phone.  
  
"Yes, I've got it"  
  
"Goodbye."  
  
He took off his glasses and frowned at them.  
  
"Giles. Is everything ok?" Buffy asked.  
  
Giles shook his head.  
  
"Do you know? I genuinely believe this world is insane."  
  
"After everything we've been through, you're what? Coming to that conclusion now?"  
  
"Yes. And when you put it like that I can see I've been incredibly stupid. Anyway, Spike, he's...umm...investigating something with Angel and asked if you would mind taking the class today?"  
  
"No probs. But it probably wouldn't hurt them to have a bit of downtime."  
  
"Whatever you think fit." He replied.

**-**

The Smile Time video was playing in the background, it was currently being run through filters and the results were colour coded and automatically recorded and analysed. Fred's attention was focused on the squirming puppet in front of her.  
  
"Sit still, Spike or don't blame me when you're all lopsided."  
  
Spike immediately sat statue-like in one of the lab chairs, whilst Fred leant over him.  
  
"I'm using adhesive because I was never that good at needlework." She shrugged. "It'll hold far better than my stitching that's for sure."  
  
She finally decided she was happy with the placement and pressed it firmly into position.  
  
"There we go. Perfect."  
  
"Thanks, luv. I appreciate it."  
  
He looked at her as she gave a slightly wobbly smile.  
  
"You ok then?"  
  
"Yeah...No...I don't know. I'm not stupid, I know everyone dies eventually but I'm not ready. I don't want to die, Spike."  
  
Spike took her hand.  
  
"Not gonna happen, luv, believe me. Not for a long, long time. I mean, what would I do without you?"  
  
"Yep, anytime you need parts and appendages sticking back on, I'm your girl."  
  
"You're my girl anyway and us vamps don't easily give up what belongs to us."  
  
"I think, actually, you'll find she's my girl." Wesley said, catching the tail end of the conversation and putting an arm around her.  
  
"And how long did it take you discover that? Are you sure you want him, Fred. He's not exactly the brightest streetlamp on the block."  
  
Fred grinned happily.  
  
"I'm sure. At least it didn't take him a hundred years to find out that he cared."  
  
"Ouch! You'd better watch that kitty, Percy. She's got claws."  
  
"I can assure you, I'll be watching her for the rest of our lives."  
  
"Now isn't that a sight for sore...ears." Lorne smiled. "Hi Pumpkin, we're doing your department next, if that's ok?"  
  
"Sure, go ahead."  
  
"Thanks. By the way. Nice nose."  
  
"I'll give him some moral support." Wesley said walking off with Lorne.  
  
"Is it ok?" Spike asked trying to peer down at his new nose.  
  
"It looks great."  
  
"Where did you get it from anyway?"  
  
She pulled out a scarf, blue with pink flowers, now sporting a hole where one of the pink flowers had been.  
  
"You ruined it? For me?"  
  
His puppet emotions overcame him and he buried his head affectionately in Fred's shoulder. She hugged him back and tangled her hand in the white strands of his hair.  
  
A rather strident song cut through the air.  
  
"Breathe on me, breath of God, Fill me with life anew ..."  
  
"Enough." Lorne called.  
  
Spike disengaged himself from Fred, rolling his shoulders and striking a more macho stance as Wes and Lorne came towards them.  
  
"I'm telling you there was nothing." Lorne said.  
  
"So he's clean?" Wes asked wearily.  
  
"Bubbles there, is so clean he squeaks."  
  
"I'm sorry?" Spike said in disbelief. "That bloke works for Wolfram and Hart and he hasn't got a single nefarious scheme up his sleeve? Seems unlikely to me."  
  
"You do have a point, Spike. Tell me, have you ever come across anyone here without something slightly dark brewing in them?"  
  
"Besides Fredikins here? No, I don't think I have."  
  
They all turned back and stared at Knox. Spike walked over to him and reached out a hand towards his neck.  
  
"Hey..." Knox protested, as Spike yanked off a chain, which had been hidden under his shirt.  
  
"Now sing." Spike demanded.  
  
"No way. I've done my singing." He looked towards Fred for support. "You know it's not me, Fred. I adore you. Worship you."  
  
"So sing. Sing for me." Fred commanded.  
  
Knox took a breath as though he was about to obey but instead made a desperate dash towards the door. Spike sprang after him, tumbling them both into the corridor outside, with the lab door swinging shut behind them. The others quickly followed but by the time they'd pushed opened the door the fight was over. Knox was lying bruised and dishevelled, only half conscious as he slumped against the lift doors.  
  
Spike was dusting himself down.  
  
"How did you know the necklace was protecting him?" Lorne asked.  
  
"It's always a bloody necklace isn't it?"  
  
"Uh...gem of amarra?"  
  
"Except when it's a ring." Spike qualified.  
  
"Quite. Why don't you update Angel and I'll get some answers from this...thing."  
  
Wesley dragged the beaten man into the lift and pressed down. Spike, Fred and Lorne made their way to Angel's office.  
  
"Hi Harmony, is Angle free? Can we see him?"  
  
She nodded towards his office.  
  
"He's not exactly free for but you may as well enjoy the show."  
  
"Why? What's happened now?"  
  
"Nina came to see him." Harmony nodded towards the half open door.  
  
"Why can't you look at me?" Nina was asking plaintively.  
  
"Because I'm under my desk." He explained. "Would you mind getting out of here?"  
  
"I guess..." she replied and walked away in confusion.  
  
"What is it with puppets and desks?" Lorne asked.  
  
"It's...a thing." Spike replied defensively.  
  
Angel was back in full view, sitting in his chair with his head in hands.  
  
"You realise you're traumatising that poor girl, don't you, Angelbabe?"  
  
"Excuse me, did I hear you knock?" Angel replied in some annoyance. "Also? I don't want to talk about it."  
  
Lorne tutted but Angel remained unmoved.  
  
"Who is she?" Spike asked.  
  
"A girl I sort of saved. A werewolf now. I've been trying to help her."  
  
"Oh I get it...she's eternally grateful and 'is there anything I can do in return, my hero, my saviour?' That sort of scene?"  
  
"I guess. But why? I mean I'm not witty or suave, I'm the guy lurking in a dark corner with a bad blood habit."  
  
"Yeah. They never really get it do they? They build an image and then try to stuff you in it, no matter how bad the fit."  
  
"Yeah. That's women for you." Lorne agreed melancholically.  
  
"Hey. I am here you know."  
  
"Sorry Freddypie but we don't mean you when we talk about women."  
  
Fred folded her arms.  
  
"Lorne, stop trying to make it better." Spike hissed.  
  
"Anyway. Down to business." Angel hastily cut in. "How did it go with Knox?"  
  
"He sang. He was all puppies and candy canes. Turned out he was wearing a protective charm, which screwed with my empathic abilities and gave a false reading." Lorne summed up.  
  
"Wesley is questioning him." Fred added. "So there is actually nothing else we can do until we have a bit more information."  
  
"Gunn has been trying to find out what we're dealing with by tracing the sarcophagus back to its source. It was shipped into the country. The carrier came from Europe but there is no trace of it being loaded that end. As far as we can tell it was actually picked up in the middle of the ocean. We're currently attempting to locate the crew of the ship in the hope of obtaining an eyewitness account."  
  
"Meanwhile." Spike suggested. "Perhaps we could turn our heads to this little problem." He held out his puppet hand.  
  
"I've been researching it and we ran a fully spectrum analysis on this morning's episode, used every filter we had. I still have to go over the results."  
  
"If you get on with that, I think its time that we had a chat with the creator of Smile Time." Angel said.  
  
"No." Lorne replied. "It's too dangerous for you two, now you're all puppetfied. He may have a way of controlling his creations. I'll get Gunn and we'll go talk to him."  
  
"Makes sense." Spike agreed. "I mean, look at us. I've seen scarier demons on Teletubbies. Suppose he might die laughing at us but it doesn't sound much of a plan."  
  
"Ok. So Gunn and Lorne will get answers from...?"  
  
"Framkin." Fred supplied.  
  
"Yeah, Framkin. Fred will continue analysing the show, Wes is questioning Knox and Spike and I will...uh..."  
  
"Do something really useful." Spike finished helpfully.  
  
"No. I mean yes..."  
  
"Ok. That's great. I'll get Gunn." Lorne left hurriedly, before they changed their minds and put him back on singing duty.  
  
"I'll get back to the tape. Don't worry. We'll get some answers for you."  
  
"I know you will. Thanks Fred."

-

Wesley tied the man securely. He'd never felt so much cold hatred as he did for this man.  
  
"I used to be a watcher. You know, looking after a slayer." He said conversationally as he tested the bonds thoroughly.  
  
"I wasn't a very good one, does that surprise you?"  
  
The other man just slouched unresponsive, his eyes at half mast.  
  
"I don't know if I taught my slayer anything, except maybe how to distrust." Wesley considered this and added. "Which is always a useful skill to have. Unfortunately it's not one Fred ever acquired. She trusted you."  
  
The words tasted like metal in his mouth.  
  
"I, however, learnt a lot from my slayer."  
  
He turned away and lit a cigarette and slouched against the cell wall in a manner eerily reminiscent of Spike, the early years.  
  
"She taught me that there were five basic torture groups: sharp, blunt, hot cold and loud. And how to use them all, it was very educational."  
  
He slowly blew the smoke out, clouding the air between them.  
  
"I'm going to pass on the favour and educate you."  
  
Another drag on the cigarette, until the end glowed orange. He walked towards the bound figure.  
  
"Beginning with...hot."  
  
A scream filled the room.  
  
"You're supposed to...ask me...questions first." Knox panted.  
  
"I believed I asked you whether you were surprised at my failure as a watcher and you deigned not to answer." Wesley replied.  
  
"You want to hurt me." He realised. "But...you're one of the good guys! You don't torture. It's not you, Wesley. What would Fred think?"  
  
A resounding smack echoed in the air and Knox was jerked back by the blow.  
  
"You don't even get to mention her name, you, filthy, murdering vermin."  
  
It sounded all the more deadly for the cold, almost disinterested tone employed.  
  
"So shall we get back to it?"  
  
"Was that a question?"  
  
"You're learning." Replied Wesley with approval. "So shall we get back to it?"

**-**

The office finally emptied and they both flopped down on the couch.  
  
"We need to talk." Angel said.  
  
"I know. But is this really the time? Stupid puppet emotions. I mean we're not exactly rational about these things at the best of times."  
  
"Yeah. You're right. Wonder why you were sent to the studio last night just to be hit like I was?"  
  
"Well the vision wasn't really about us, it was about the children. I came along for the ride. Suppose I just wanted to see you again."  
  
"Really?" Angel tried to keep the pleasure from his voice, aiming for neutral and cool.  
  
"Uh huh. Got a lot to tell you but perhaps leave it until after this is over, yeah?"  
  
"I agree. You don't look like you, and the blood link has gone. I have no sense of you. When you're not in front of me I've no idea if you're even alive."  
  
"I know, I noticed that. The bond is in the blood and it looks like cotton wadding isn't considered an acceptable substitute."  
  
"Are we even vampires?"  
  
"I think I may have vamped out when I fought Knox...not sure."  
  
An expression of intense concentration appeared on Angel's face, his eyes turned yellow and little fangs protruded from his mouth.  
  
Spike began to laugh and Angel sighed.  
  
"Still not scary then?"  
  
Spike just shook his head and Angel let his face change back.  
  
They sat in companionable silence, an interlude of peace in their insane day. In the end there was only so much peace Spike could take and he soon got restless.  
  
"I'll go and give Fred a hand."  
  
"It's science, Spike. Not blood and guts."  
  
"I live in this world. Always have. I was probably using a computer when you were still sucking on rats."  
  
"Thanks for reminding me of that. I still think it's unfair that I had a hundred years of eating rats and you had..."  
  
Spike interrupted.  
  
"I had people around me who helped me. You had no one. You did alright, Peaches."  
  
No I didn't. But I'm doing alright now. Go on, you go help Fred; I'm going to run through the crew listing and make some calls. Ummm...maybe I should apologise to Nina?"

**-**

"I guess we should go through the signal spread, check the tracks again."  
  
Fred chatted as she looked through the results. She wasn't really talking to Spike, she was almost explaining things to herself, questioning herself and then answering, but having him there stopped her feeling self conscious about it.  
  
Smile Time was running in a continuous loop, Spike watched it carefully in case he could spot something with enhanced senses.  
  
"Spike?"  
  
"Hmmm?"  
  
"What is Wesley doing down there? To Knox?"  
  
Spike was immediately alert.  
  
"Uh. Questioning him."  
  
"But how? I mean, is he using persuasion or..._persuasion_?"  
  
Spike muted the TV.  
  
"Listen, he'll do what he has to and sometimes that means going places where he wouldn't normally choose to go."  
  
"Spike!" She exclaimed.  
  
"Yeah, I know, it can be dangerous, can warp a man...."  
  
"Spike!" She said with more urgency, her eyes glued to the screen.  
  
"What?"  
  
She nodded at the screen. The puppet, Polo, was leaning forward, his hypnotic face filling the TV screen, his eyes filled with malice.  
  
Spike jumped up.  
  
"That's it! That was my vision. That's when he drains the kids. Why didn't he do that earlier?"  
  
He turned the volume back up and Polo was innocently singing with the other puppets. He muted it and the menacing face once again filled the screen and it looked like he was talking to the audience.  
  
"I think the carrier signal is being cloaked by the song, allowing Framkin to address his target without being seen by the rest of his viewers. That's how he's hiding it."  
  
"That's how he was hiding it." Spike replied grimly.  
  
"True. And now we know what we're looking at let's test this thing properly."

**-**

The house was quiet, Buffy had decided that 'downtime' equalled 'mall time' and they had all taken a day off shopping. Giles realised that she'd probably done it for his benefit and was grateful to her.  
  
Meanwhile, he'd been as good as his word, chasing up old contacts. He'd asked the questions and now it was just a waiting game until someone returned with an answer. Or not, as the case may be. This was his first attempt to work with Angel's people since they'd migrated to the other side. His chance to show his commitment to the bargain he'd struck with Spike. He was even considering the idea of using Wolfram and Hart resources for their own purpose. It would give him access to old texts and manuscripts, the sort of access which he thought had been lost with the Council's library.  
  
He sat down at his desk, with a pen and paper and used the temporary peace to try to recall the tracts which might refer to the situation Angel was facing. Somehow having a pen in his hand helped him think, and that was something a keyboard could never replace. That and the soothing scratch of nib on paper, instead of the constant, irritating tap, tap, tap of keys. Certainly he moved with the times, he could accept that computers had a place when it came to research, as long as that place was nowhere near him. Luckily Andrew's enthusiasm more than made up for his own lack on interest in the infernal machine.  
  
Besides this research he was doing on their behalf, he hadn't forgotten his promise to Spike and was currently looking into finding a suitable property for him. He'd made a shortlist, but what did he know off Spike's taste? The only place he'd known the vampire to stay for any length of time had been the crypt. Then there was Angel. Who had chosen a mansion, a decrepit but once magnificent hotel and was now living in one of the finest penthouses in LA. His tastes obviously ran to the grand.  
  
Willow had made some useful suggestions, approaching it from a purely magical viewpoint. She pointed out that a detached property would be easier to protect than an apartment and if it had its own grounds she'd be able to place secondary protection at the boundary. It was lucky that the Council had deep pockets - properties of this specification didn't come cheap in LA.

**-**

Gunn and Lorne arrived back. Gunn had an idea, which he wanted to research, so Lorne was by himself when he saw, to his shock, Angel tottering towards him, his clothing ripped and his stuffing hanging out. He ran towards the wounded puppet.  
  
"Angel! My prince! Are you alright? Who did this?"  
  
"Nina." He gasped. "I was apologising."  
  
"Ah and she didn't take it too well. I understand. Just hold on. Keep fighting."  
  
He supported Angel's weight  
  
"Medic!" He yelled. "Is there a Geppetto in the house?"  
  
Angel was carefully sewn back together. Even so he moved tentatively, not wanting to test the strength of the stitching and unsure as to how vampire healing worked on his new body. He'd asked everyone to, once again, reconvene in his office. Gunn was busy but the others were waiting for him.  
  
"Angel, are you alright?" Fred asked in concern, as she noticed his slightly tattered look.  
  
"Long story." He replied easing himself into his chair. "Just give me some good news."  
  
She immediately began talking animatedly.  
  
"We've discovered that Smile Time contains a hidden carrier wave masked by a spell that turns the TV into a 2-way conduit with direct access to the viewer." Fred explained. "That's how he's been draining energy from the children, and judging from the strength of yesterday's signal, Framkin's ready to take out the whole audience. The object that you and Spike described in that secret room, is most likely a repository for the children's life force. We'll have to break the binding magic on it."  
  
"Which should free those children and... reverse our puppet problem." Spike finished.  
  
"I want the ops team put on red alert." Angel demanded, his hands clenching into little fists.  
  
"Red alert?" Lorne queried, with a lift of his brows.  
  
"Teargas, helicopters..."  
  
"Angel, baby... Muppet, pumpkin, uh, this show is number one in its time slot. Tykes love it all across the Southland. Parents love it, its edutainment, they can leave the little moppets in front of the TV and still feel like they're being good parents. We can't just toss a Jihad at the studio."  
  
Angel calmed himself a little.  
  
"Right. So. How did you get on with Framkin?"  
  
"Papa Smurf? Nothing. We threatened him. He threatened us. I think he might have beaten us in the one-up threatmanship. He's a bad person." "Maybe we don't need a Jihad, just an assassination. Take out Framkin and his cohorts, get to that smiley object and break the magic."  
  
"Again, I say. This is a major show. You can't just make the puppet meister disappear."  
  
"Why not? I am CEO of Wolfram and Hart. I can make anyone disappear."  
  
"Yes, I'm sure you can." Fred replied soothingly. "But are you sure that's the sort of power you want to use?" She screwed up his face slightly. "Its means and ends isn't it? If you start using the tactics of the enemy, then how long before you become like them?"  
  
Angel shook his head.  
  
"You're a good girl, Fred, but its results that count. I mean, what do you think Wesley is doing at the moment?"  
  
She remembered the conversation that she'd started to have with Spike.  
  
"Is he...? I have to go." She rushed out.  
  
"You really are a complete wanker." Spike shook his head and left.  
  
"What?" He asked Lorne.  
  
"Tact, Angelcakes. You know? That thing that you don't have."  
  
Spike entered Wesley's office and had a quick look through the cupboards. Someone as organised and prissy as Wesley was bound to keep a set of emergency clothes...and there they were.

**-**

The man was unconscious again, which was annoying. He'd just begun to feel as if they were getting somewhere. Wesley poured himself a glass of water. Who would have thought that torture could be so emotionally and physically tiring, for the perpetrator, as well as the victim?  
  
There was a knock at the door.  
  
"Who is it?"  
  
"Hi Wes. It's me."  
  
"Fred? What are you doing here?"  
  
"Let me in, Wes."  
  
He looked down at himself, at the blood spattered room, at the unconscious form bound to his chair.  
  
"No. I don't want you in here."  
  
"Have you hurt him?"  
  
Wesley hesitated.  
  
"Fred, it's...."  
  
"Is he alive?"  
  
He realised she was not going to be put off.  
  
"Yes, he's alive."  
  
He could hear her sigh of relief even through the thick door.  
  
"How can you still be worried about him? He tried to murder you. He tried to destroy your soul."  
  
"Him? I'm not worried about him, Wes. Can't you see? It's you! I'm worried about you." She began to cry.  
  
He slumped down to a crouching position and could feel his own eyes tear up.  
  
"Fred..."  
  
"I love you, Wesley. I love you as you are. No more of this, please."  
  
"I'm doing it for you!"  
  
"And it means nothing if I lose you. I don't want someone who tortures and murders, even if it is for me. I just want my sweet Wes."  
  
He could here her being comforted and then an English voice.  
  
"It's me Wes. She's going to stay here. Let me in."  
  
The door slowly unlocked and Spike walked in, closing it firmly behind him.  
  
He handed Wesley the clothes.  
  
"Clean up. Change." He ordered.  
  
Wesley took off his shirt and stared blankly at the blood.  
  
"Oh, bloody hell. Look its ok."  
  
Spike took the shirt from him, drenched it with water from the jug and started to wipe his face.  
  
"I can do it." Wesley said, taking the shirt and cleansing himself before pulling on fresh clothes.  
  
He looked at Knox.  
  
"I was so close." He whispered.  
  
"We'll find another way, Wes."  
  
Wes stood stiffly, his head bent and his forehead leaning slightly on Spike's shoulder. Spike realised he was crying. He patted him rather awkwardly.  
  
"Don't worry, Mate. We'll find a way."  
  
Wesley pulled himself together and nodded.  
  
"She's waiting for you."  
  
Wesley slowly left. Fred took him by the hand and led him away.  
  
Spike shut the door again and surveyed the room with a sick feeling. Wesley was a little too good at this. Knox was coming around, his eyelids fluttered and he let out a groan.  
  
"No more." he begged, through his broken mouth.  
  
"Then tell us what we want to know." Spike replied, in an eerie imitation of Wesley.  
  
"There's nothing you can do." Knox said softly. "It was pre-ordained."  
  
"Tell me." Spike commanded.  
  
"Illyria planned this resurrection millennia ago. Illyria is a god. My god."  
  
Maybe this was enough, even if it wasn't Spike couldn't take anymore more. The blood and the pain called to his demon.  
  
He picked up the phone and ordered a medic and a clean up crew.

**-**

Gunn spotted Spike.  
  
"Hey, man. Got some news for you and the Boss."  
  
"Let's go then. I've got an update on Illyria, but if you're there it means we can soften it with your good news."  
  
Angel was on the telephone, when they walked in. He nodded at them to take a seat.  
  
"Well thank you very much. You've been most helpful, Mr McCann. Good bye."  
  
He looked pleased with himself.  
  
"Just been speaking with a member of the crew that shipped the sarcophagus. Apparently, he remembers that particular voyage. The ship had to be at a certain location in the Atlantic at a specific time. They made it and he swears that he saw this thing appear out of thin air. It missed the ship and landed in the ocean. They had to send a team out to collect it. He didn't get a chance to look at it but I'm pretty sure that's our relic."  
  
"I've got a bit of background to it, courtesy of Knox." Spike said. "It contains Illyria, a god, or so he said. This Illyria put its own escape in motion before its internment. Knox said it was pre-ordained."  
  
"Why teleport to the middle of the ocean?" Gunn asked.  
  
"If this plan was set in place a long time ago then the world has changed, continents shifted." Angel replied.  
  
"So, it's a god. Like Jasmine. Except, in her own way, Jasmine was benevolent, and look how much destruction she caused. We can probably safely assume that this Illyria will not have the same protective feelings towards humanity. You've faced a god before haven't you Spike?"  
  
"I've faced a chained and neutered god and she was dangerous enough. Buffy died."  
  
Angel went cold, he'd forgotten how that had ended.  
  
"We can't let it get out of the sarcophagus."  
  
"In that case we need to find it and send it back to where it came from." Spike said.  
  
"Not necessarily." Gunn replied. "If it's meant for Fred that means very shortly it's going to turn up here. It's going to find us."  
  
"I'm not happy about it being on the premises, but you're right. If we accept that's the way it's going to happen, it means we can concentrate on researching where it came from, and how to send it back, before Illyria is freed."  
  
They considered this in gloomy silence.  
  
"Gunn? Now might be a nice time for your good news." Spike suggested.  
  
"Oh yeah, back to the puppet thing. It's not Framkin as such. He's not doing this. It's the puppets. They're demons. The show is possessed. Smile Time's ratings hit an all-time low last year. Framkin made a deal with some devils to bring it back to number one."  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
"Dead sure. Every contract signed with the lower planes is filed in the Library of Demonic Congress. You just gotta know where to look. Pretty tricky legalese, too. Framkin must have missed some of the fine print." Gunn replied.  
  
Angel walked back towards his desk and took a sword from off the wall.  
  
"So we only have to take out some puppets. Even Fred wouldn't disapprove of that. Gather the team."  
  
"Right, action at last." Spike agreed enthusiastically. "Let's go get ourselves some puppets."

**-**

"Listen, kids. Today is gonna be an extra-special best show ever! But only if everyone at home can give us a hand. Now get up... and come over here. That's it, everyone. Just keep your hands right there. Oh! Ohh... let it go! Let it all go! After all, it's Smile Time!" Polo had his hands either side of the camera whilst the other puppets sang.  
  
"No, it' not..." Angel said.  
  
Polo turned away from the camera to see Angel standing on the set behind him, carrying a sword  
  
"...it's time to kick your ass all the way back to hell!"  
  
He swung his sword and let out a primal yell as he leapt towards the puppet, whilst the TV show staff acted as if they couldn't see what was going on around them.  
  
"Hey, man! You're ruinin' the show!"  
  
"We're working on it." Gunn replied swinging his sword and cutting off puppet Groofus's head.  
  
The big, purple puppet with a hooter for a nose began to toot furiously.  
  
"Now that is really irritating." Spike growled raising his axe and slicing it off with a single blow. A sad little wheeze came from the puppet, Spike swiftly finished the job.  
  
Polo had managed to knock the sword from Angel's grip. Gunn shouted out a warning and Polo noticed the others for the first time.  
  
"It's a full-scale attack!" He called to the other puppets, "...the nest egg."  
  
But Fred and Wesley were already busy in the "Don't" room.  
  
"Aperi, rumpe, solve, reveni. Aperi, rumpe, solve, reveni—"  
  
Fred read from a scroll. At her words the nest egg began to rumble and the glowing crescent-shaped slit appeared.  
  
"Don't look at it, Fred." Wes warned.  
  
She looked at her feet and continued to read the scroll. A girl puppet suddenly burst through the door and grabbed Wesley around the neck.  
  
"Wes!  
  
"No, Fred. Keep reading!"  
  
The nest egg's smile widened, Fred continued reciting, whilst Wes struggled with the puppet. Fred grew agitated and looked over her shoulder, to see the puppet coming at Wesley with a fire extinguisher. She pulled out a gun and fired, the puppet stumbled back, she shot again and the puppet dropped to the ground with a hand to its eye. Wes looked at Fred, admiration shining in his eyes. Fred smiled and blushed, put the gun away and continued reading the scroll.  
  
Angel, meanwhile, had managed to overpower Polo.  
  
"So... you got a little demon in you." Polo taunted.  
  
"I got a lot of demon in me." The vampire replied as his eyes turned golden and his fangs dropped. Polo gasped in fright.  
  
Angel grabbed the puppet and threw him into the treehouse, where he landed on a railing. Pierced on the wooden splinters, he fell limp.  
  
"Gunn? Spike?" Angel called, his face slipping back to its human aspect as he straightened his coat.  
  
"Yeah. We're good." Spike said waving a dismembered hooter at him.  
  
Wesley beat the wounded puppet, not satisfied until he was showered with guts, or in this case, cotton stuffing. The nest egg began to glow brighter as Fred finished her incantation. Cracks started to appear in it. Until it finally exploded, showering the room with bright light. Wes and Fred turned away from the force of the explosion with Wesley shielding her smaller figure protectively.  
  
"It's over Fred." He whispered. "Well done."  
  
Angel and Spike were disappointed to find themselves still in puppet form.  
  
"It might take a few hours to wear off." Fred explained.  
  
Everyone was shattered, they'd hardly slept for two days.  
  
"Go home everyone. We're getting close with this Illyria thing so take a day to recover and we'll see you tomorrow."  
  
They left without argument.  
  
Angel turned to Spike.  
  
"You want to stay at mine tonight?"  
  
"Do I still look like a puppet?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"I'll stay with you then. Is my bed still there?"  
  
"Yeah. Try not to have any visions. I'm tired." Angel sighed. "Do things always have to be so crazy?"  
  
"This was a quiet day. Wait until the apocalypse strikes."  
  
"There's going to be another apocalypse?"  
  
"No. Not the season for them yet. They normally strike in the summer...are you laughing?"  
  
"No! Just..." he made little coughing noises, "...clearing my throat."  
  
"It was ok? Working together?" Spike asked a little anxiously.  
  
"It was good, like old times...except for the puppet thing."  
  
"Because it looks like we really are stuck with each other. You ok with that?"  
  
"What do you think, Spike?"  
  
"I think...we'll deal with Illyria tomorrow."  
  
They went back to the penthouse and for the rest of the day they slept like the dead.


	10. Endings

_**Disclaimer:**_

Nope, still not mine. Joss's and ME's. Hope they don't mind me playing with them.  
  
**_Summary:_**

Angel and Spike settle down to something approaching domesticity. Meanwhile they find out more about the sarcophagus and plan to return it. But at what cost?

-

**Endings  
  
Chapter 10**  
  
Angel awoke just as the sun was going down. He stretched luxuriously and examined the hand in front of him. He had a hand made of flesh and blood! Finally! No more stupid, humiliating, puppet Angel. He leapt out of bed.  
  
"Spike!" He yelled.  
  
Spike was already up and causing havoc as he rummaged through cupboards  
  
"No need to shout. Vamp hearing you know."  
  
"Look!" Angels said, holding out his hands and grinning.  
  
"You're a real boy again. I know. I felt the bond suddenly snap into place. Also got a report, the children drained by the nest egg have all made full recoveries."  
  
"Yeah? That's good. Uh, Spike? What are you looking for?"  
  
"Dinner."  
  
"The blood is in the fridge, where it always is."  
  
"Duh. But what do you put in it to give it flavour...texture?"  
  
"I'm a vampire, Spike. I take my blood neat. I dread to ask, but what do you normally put in your blood?"  
  
"I'll try anything but Cocoa Pops goes particularly well."  
  
Angel shook his head in mock disappointment. "Sometimes I wonder exactly what I raised, because I'm thinking it's not a vampire."  
  
"Don't worry, I've still got my bite. It's just bagged blood is so boring, need to pep it up a bit. Anyway, get dressed, Peaches. We've stuff to do today."  
  
"We have?"  
  
"Uh huh. Places to go, people to see."  
  
"Where? Who?"  
  
"Surprise."  
  
"I don't really like surprises..." Angel said in a wheedling tone and using his soft brown eyes to good effect. But Spike was implacable.  
  
"Tough. I'm not telling you. So you can stop giving me the chocolate drop eyes."  
  
"Well, I'm not coming with you. I'm busy, we've still got this Illyria thing to investigate and other business has been piling up over the last couple of days."  
  
"Come on, Peaches. Wes and Gunn have the whole Company working on Illyria, what difference will you make at this stage? As for Company business, it can wait one night." Spike coaxed.  
  
"Sorry."  
  
It was Spike's turn to pout, as he threw himself down on the couch.  
  
"After all you've done to me, the least you can do is come with me tonight. You let me get vamp-napped by Giles, you stole my memories, twice. You destroyed my ring, you stole Dru..."  
  
"Are you going to list every bad thing I've ever done to you, until I give in?"  
  
"Yeah, that was the plan..."  
  
"I'll shower, be with you in ten."  
  
"Thanks, pet. You won't regret it."  
  
Spike sat back and re-read the short note from Giles. He hadn't expected to hear from him so quickly.  
  
Angel soaped himself down. All in all he was feeling pretty content. They'd saved the kids, they were de-puppetfied, Spike wanted to spend time with him. He wondered what they were doing tonight. He got out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist. Until he knew what they were doing he wasn't sure what to wear. He ran some mousse through his hair until it felt about right, opened his wardrobe and considered. Nothing too expensive, knowing Spike their night would probably involve blood and guts, but if they were meeting people he needed to look good. Angelus was right about some things, couldn't go wrong with leather pants. Hmmm, and the black shirt, to hide potential bloodstains. He wondered what Spike would wear and realised that he'd been living in the same clothes for ages. Did he even have others?  
  
"Hey, Spike. I was thinking. You should leave some clothes here. Perhaps we should fit in some shopping tonight."  
  
Spike looked at his cheerful face.  
  
"You like shopping?"  
  
"Well...yeah."  
  
"You may be surprised to hear me say this, but. You. Are. A. Complete. Poof."  
  
"Don't care. We'll trade, I won't ask any more questions about tonight and in return you come shopping with me. I mean, you're my childe and you're a disgrace. Your jeans are ripped..."  
  
"Eh? What's wrong with them, they're the height of fashion, Pillock."  
  
"And another thing you're my seer as well as my childe, it's time you treated me with more respect and stopped calling me insulting names..."  
  
They looked at each other, Angel's lips twitched and they both started laughing.  
  
"Well, it was worth a try." Angel shrugged.  
  
"Absolutely and I'll stop calling you names when...Never."  
  
-  
  
Spike was driving. He'd handed over a bit of paper with an address written on it and told Angel to keep his eyes peeled. They were now well away from the city's tenements and tower blocks and into a leafier area, with large properties set well back from the road.  
  
"Spike, I think this is it."  
  
They were faced with an expanse of high brick wall. It had a double gate built into it but apart from that it was peculiarly featureless and nondescript in comparison with the surrounding properties. Spike pulled in and scrabbled in his jeans' pocket. Eventually producing a set of keys and a fob. He examined the fob for a second and then pressed a button. The double gates in front of them gave a mechanical groan as they slowly opened, to reveal a tangled drive beyond.  
  
"Spike?" Angel asked curiously.  
  
"Wait." Spike replied.  
  
The drive had once been sweeping but nature was gradually reclaiming it. Trees which had once lined it had grown and were now encroaching upon it. The house beyond came into view. Angel gasped, not because it was particularly big or grand but,  
  
"It's so old."  
  
"Yeah." Spike agreed. "Some English bloke with more money than sense had it flown over from England and rebuilt brick by brick."  
  
Spike parked up in front of the house and climbed out. The air smelt sweet, it seemed a million miles removed from the fumes and the noise of LA.  
  
"It's peaceful here." Angel commented.  
  
Spike nodded his agreement.  
  
"Come on, let's have a look around."  
  
Spike flicked through the keys until he came to large iron one, it turned smoothly in the lock and the heavy front door swung open with a creak. It led into a tiled hall, with a staircase in front of them and rooms either side. They entered the first room on the right. It was enormous with heavily curtained French doors and tall windows.  
  
"A ballroom." Angel said.  
  
"A training room." Spike corrected.  
  
Angel considered.  
  
"It would make a good training room." He said as he surveyed it critically.  
  
They started to explore the other rooms, almost in silence. Spike gestured the other vampire over. Behind the main staircase there was a hidden stair spiralling down. They carefully made their way down the stone steps and found themselves in a basement consisting of a number of rooms. A few of the inner ones had no windows at all.  
  
"Oh. I like this." Spike approved as he went in and out of each room.  
  
Angel found an external door, which Spike unlocked and together they walked up a flight of steps, leading to an old fashioned English walled garden.  
  
"A secret garden?" Spike said as he took in his surroundings.  
  
Angel looked around. The walls were covered in a variety of climbing plants. "Dru would love it here."  
  
Spike sat down on one of the walls, which ran either side of the steps.  
  
"Do you like it?" Spike asked.  
  
"It's perfect." Angel replied. He lay back on the opposite stone wall and stared at the hazy night sky. "So why re we here?"  
  
Instead of answering Spike took out his mobile and punched in a number.  
  
"Hi. It's me." He said  
  
"Yeah, it's great, perfect."  
  
"Go ahead."  
  
"Yeah. Buy it. And thanks."  
  
He hit the 'end call' button and put the phone back in his duster pocket.  
  
"Spike what is this?"  
  
Spike sighed and hoped Angel would go along with his plan without too much argument.  
  
"Its home." He replied.  
  
"You've bought it?" Angel asked a touch of awe in his voice. "I envy you. It's beautiful."  
  
"No envy. It's ours. It's our home."  
  
"Ours? Nice idea but I have a home."  
  
"No. You have a place to stay if you end up working late. Now you have a home. They're flying Red in to cast protective wards around it. It's ideal. We'll have all the upstairs for show and then the basement as a hidden home within a home. Where we can be anything we want. We lock that door at the top of the stairs and we have our own nest. No pretence at being human or civilised, what happens here is no one else's business but ours. It's just us. A sanctuary."  
  
"But, Spike..."  
  
"Look, if I can't appeal to your vampiric nature, think of this instead. We have all those empty rooms. Think of all the shopping you could do."  
  
Angel's eyes brightened. "Yeah, that's true. Ummm, at whose expense?"  
  
"That's for you to negotiate with Giles and Buffy. Come on. Let's go meet them. They'll be waiting for us."  
  
"They want to meet me." Angel asked, suddenly nervous at the prospect.  
  
"Yeah. It's ok, they've promised not to bite...unless you bite first." Spike grinned.  
  
"I don't know if it's a good idea. Uh. Can we look around again? I mean, if it's going to be home I need to take another look."  
  
Spike realised that Angel needed a little time to work up to the idea of meeting Buffy. Time to brood. Well he'd grant him the time but was damned if he was going to put up with a miserable, brooding sire.  
  
"How about a look around the grounds with me?" Spike leapt to the top of the surrounding garden wall and dropped to the other side. "If you can find me, that is."  
  
Angel could hear him running through the undergrowth and growled with pleasure. Oh, they hadn't played this game for years. He took the wall in one jump and listened carefully. All noise had disappeared. His childe had grown more stealthy since they had last played. He heard a movement. Better, but not stealthy enough. Oh, a cat. He'd been stalking a cat. This was now serious. He brought all his senses into play. Spike must have been moving around a lot because his scent seemed to be everywhere. He closed his eyes and felt along the bond, trying to find a direction.  
  
"Oy! Not fair!" Spike sounded outraged and suddenly he was moving swiftly and noiselessly. Angel took off after him. And then stopped. Spike should be here...right here. He looked around warily and then let out a shout as a weight fell on him from above and rolled him to the ground.  
  
"I think I win." Spike grinned and looked at Angel questioningly. Angel was so into the pleasure of the moment all his worries about meeting Buffy had left him. He nodded and waited expectantly as Spike tugged at his shirt collar. He felt the sharp pain and then the tug as his blood was drawn out.  
  
"Yes." He whispered tucking his hand around Spike's head and gently cradling him, until he felt Spike licking the wound closed.  
  
Spike raised his head. "Feeling more relaxed."  
  
Angel just smiled languidly.  
  
"So you think you could live here? With me?" Spike asked.  
  
"Oh yeah, I think I'm home." Angel replied and watched hungrily as the blonde vampire licked the blood from his lips.  
  
"Right answer." Spike gave a fangy grin. "Think you deserve a reward." He pressed his wrist to Angel's mouth and the other vampire gratefully sank his teeth into the offered flesh. As he lost himself in this intimate pleasure he considered life with Spike and as he swallowed the gift so freely given and felt it unfurl like a drug within his veins, then, for the first time in an aeon, he contemplated eternity with a frissom of anticipation.  
  
-  
  
Giles looked at his watch. "They're late."  
  
Buffy smoothed her hair. "It's coming out isn't it? I knew it was too short for this style. Do I need to go fix it? I'll go fix it."  
  
She picked up her bag and left for the powder room still anxiously touching her hair.  
  
"Are you sure he's definitely not evil? Well, I know you're sure because we wouldn't be meeting him otherwise. But supposing he's lost his soul? How would we know? Is there any sign? Because if there is I think I should know." Andrew said nervously.  
  
"What? Oh. Leather trousers. Angelus is rather fond of the leather look. And blood breath. Admittedly, if he's that close to you it's probably a bit too late anyway."  
  
"Is that all?"  
  
Giles considered for a moment, the boy deserved an answer.  
  
"Angelus walks differently. Angel always has a slight stoop as though he's trying to make himself inconspicuous. Angelus swaggers."  
  
"Ok." Andrew screwed his eyes shut, trying to commit these life saving details to memory. Finally satisfied, he opened them again.  
  
"Did they really like the house?" He asked.  
  
"At that price they bloody better."  
  
"I thought it was old and scary." He thought about the soon to be occupants. "It should be just right for them."  
  
Buffy emerged, every hair tucked neatly into place. She looked towards the others and collided with someone.  
  
"Sorry..." She began to apologise but as she turned found herself face to face with Angel.  
  
"Buffy."  
  
"Angel."  
  
They stared at each other in silence.  
  
"And Spike." Spike said, trying to get their attention, and then gave up. He walked over and joined Giles and Andrew, where Andrew was tugging at Giles' sleeve and whispering, "Leather pants!"  
  
"Really?" Spike said. "I'm quite fond of it personally."  
  
Giles gave him a look, which clearly said 'pillock'.  
  
"He means that Angel is wearing leather trousers."  
  
"Oh. You think he's having an Angelus moment? Do you think Angelus would ever look quite that sappy?" He asked.  
  
Giles looked over at the speechless pair.  
  
"No, you're probably right."  
  
"Are they always as bad as that?"  
  
Giles nodded. "Oh yes."  
  
"You look good." Buffy said.  
  
"Shhh. I'm basking." Angel replied.  
  
They stared at each other for a few more seconds.  
  
"Ok. Finished basking now."  
  
Buffy laughed. "Steal all my best lines, why don't you? Come on, we'd better move before we start attracting moss."  
  
"You look...nice. Your hair is different."  
  
"Is it? Yes I suppose it is." She replied casually.  
  
They joined the others already seated inside a private booth and ordered some drinks.  
  
Andrew tapped his pen on the table.  
  
"Welcome to this historic meeting between the founders of the New Council, myself Andrew Tucker; Senior Member, Mr Rupert Giles; the last slayer, Miss Buffy Summers; our associate, Mr William T Bloody and; our hopefully soon to be associate, Angel, previously known as Angelus, Scourge of Europe."  
  
He smiled at the group. "Welcome."  
  
Angel stared at him in bemusement. "Uh. Thank you?"  
  
"Senior Member Rupert, if you would like to continue."  
  
"Would you please stop calling me that?" Andrew looked abashed but unrepentant. He wasn't speaking to the group gathered here, he was speaking to posterity. Giles shook his head and continued.  
  
"After your call, Spike, we put in an offer for the property. It's been accepted, we just need your signature....here."  
  
"Bloody hell that was quick work."  
  
"Like they say, 'money talks'. We prepared the papers in the hope that you would find it acceptable."  
  
Spike took a quick look at the contract and then passed it to Angel, who read it through and finally handed it back with a nod of his head. Spike signed.  
  
"You will be glad to know that you are now the legal owner of a prime piece of real estate." Andrew chipped in.  
  
"Willow is flying in. She should be with us shortly. As you know, she will put the wards in place and make it safe for you both. Have you any questions at this stage?"  
  
"Ummm, it's got no furniture, Rupert." Spike said.  
  
"We will, of course, pay you a stipend for your services, out of which you can pay for any necessaries..."  
  
Angel leant forward. "How much?"  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"How much are you paying my childe for his unique services?"  
  
"I really don't think that's any of your..."  
  
"I hereby authorise, Angel formerly known as Angelus, Scourge of Europe, to act on my behalf vis-à-vis reimbursement for services to be provided." Spike said and then sat back to watch the fun.  
  
Angel was in his element and haggled like a fishwife. Giles was holding his own, but sweat was standing out on his brow. Buffy watched open mouthed as they argued and cajoled.  
  
"Agreed." Angel finally said and Giles gave a slightly premature sigh of relief. "Provided you pay for decorating and furnishing the house."  
  
"I can't possibly agree to that."  
  
"Be reasonable Giles. He needs it furnished now, not in ten years time when he's saved enough of his pittance to afford it."  
  
"I see your point and the Council might be able to supply him with a loan, at a reasonable rate, to cover initial set up costs."  
  
"A loan? Interest free and you have yourself a deal."  
  
Giles looked at Buffy and Andrew, "What do you think?"  
  
They both shrugged. "Uh, sounds ok to me?" "Whatever you think."  
  
"Maybe, over a short term, that could be arranged."  
  
"Ok. It's a deal."  
  
He'd agreed too quickly, Giles eyed him suspiciously. "Just a minute, what do you, as a vampire consider short term?"  
  
"I was thinking a hundred years?"  
  
"One hundred years! Two years and that's my final offer."  
  
"I'm prepared to go as low as 75 years." Angel offered magnanimously.  
  
"Giles, will you just agree? He keeps beating you anyway and we need to move on." Andrew whispered.  
  
Giles looked mutinous. They finally settled on fifty. Angel sat back with his hands behind his head, smiling amiably at the world in general.  
  
"We'll now move on to the next item of business. The Council would also like to buy in your services, Angel."  
  
He saw Angel's eyes light up in anticipation and hastily continued.  
  
"Duties, terms and conditions to be agreed at a later date. All we require from this meeting is your agreement, in principle, that you are willing to offer your services to the Council."  
  
Angel considered it.  
  
"I thought you no longer trusted me?"  
  
"We've been presented with certain facts which have forced us to reconsider our standpoint."  
  
"Spike vouched for you and persuaded us otherwise." Andrew supplied.  
  
"He did, but we all realise you would be a valuable asset to the Council and we believe that we in turn could be useful to you. Our dealings will be in the strictest of confidence and none of our business is to be discussed within the confines of Wolfram and Hart."  
  
"Could you give us a moment please?" He grabbed Spike by the arm. "I would like to discuss it first with my associate William T Bloody."  
  
They went over to the bar and both ordered whiskeys.  
  
"You arranged all this?"  
  
"Yeah, I suppose."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"You need a counterbalance to Wolfram and Hart. I thought working with the slayers might provide it."  
  
"Supposing there are conflicts of interest."  
  
"Then you'll have some tough choices."  
  
"Do they really trust me?"  
  
"They really want to and they want to help you."  
  
"Ok."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"I already work with them through you, let's just formalise it a bit. Do you want another drink?"  
  
"Shouldn't we..." Spike nodded to the booth.  
  
"No, the secret of good negotiation is allowing the other side time to stew."  
  
"I'm glad you're on my side."  
  
"Always."  
  
-  
  
After Andrew had officially closed the meeting, Spike persuaded them to stay for another drink. Angel sat awkwardly in his corner answering the odd question that was directed his way, whilst Spike chatted and laughed with everyone. That was Spike, though. When he put his mind to it there wasn't anyone he couldn't win over. Spike noticed his sire brooding and as Giles ended a story about a particularly nasty demon they'd once run into, Spike launched into a tale about a stink demon they'd come across in the old days.  
  
Angel listened and cringed. The last thing he needed was an Angelus story to compromise their fragile trust. To his amazement, Spike had chosen a pretty complimentary story. He had saved Spike's life that night and been covered in regurgitated slime for his trouble. It had taken a week before the smell became bearable and Darla hadn't let him near her for a fortnight. Everyone laughed and sympathised with him and suddenly he became part of their group as they all started talking about the grossest demons they'd ever encountered. He began to loosen up and even contributed a story, which set everyone laughing. He'd forgotten that he could be funny. He'd always assumed that was just an Angelus trait.  
  
They wandered back to the apartment in a slightly drunken fug.  
  
"Good night?" Spike asked.  
  
"Unbelievable night." Angel replied happily. "They like me, don't they?"  
  
Spike smiled fondly. "Course they like you."  
  
"Buffy laughed at my story."  
  
"Yeah, it was a good story."  
  
"They want me to work with them."  
  
"I know."  
  
"Wanna move into our house." That appeared to jog his memory. "Hey! You welched on the deal! You were supposed to come shopping with me...is that why you kept suggesting another drink whenever anyone made a move towards the door?"  
  
"Nah, course not. Just being sociable."  
  
"So we shop tomorrow?"  
  
"Well, uh, providing nothing else comes up, then yeah."  
  
They arrived back and settled down on the couch with a bottle of whiskey between them. Sometime during the night they must have dozed off because the next thing they knew it was five in the morning and the phone was ringing.  
  
"Yeah." Spike answered, fisting at his eyes.  
  
"Hello. Spike?"  
  
"Giles?"  
  
"Yes. Look, Willow is here and she'd actually like to start the ritual for your house now. It's the last night of the full moon, which she says will give the spell a powerful boost. Could you and Angel get there in, say, half hour?"  
  
"Uh. Yeah, ok. See you soon."  
  
-  
  
"Hey Red, how's thing."  
  
"You know, all pretty good." She stared at Spike, "I couldn't believe it when Giles told me."  
  
"Yeah, I know. Me working for a living. It's a disgrace."  
  
"That's not what I meant and you know it. I'm glad to see you back. We all are. Even Xander, he just hides it better than us." She gave him a small smile.  
  
"Thanks. How is the whelp?"  
  
"He's doing really well, helping to trace slayers. They really like him. Mind you he's got that whole sexy eye patch thing going on now."  
  
"Can't you just give him a new eye?"  
  
"He doesn't want one. You know...Anya died in the struggle, he wears the patch like a mark of courage, in memory of her,"  
  
Spike felt bad, "I'm sorry I never even asked, just sort of assumed that she'd survive. She seemed like a survivor."  
  
He changed the subject and Willow took it gratefully.  
  
"Do you like our house?"  
  
"Oh it's great! Just right for you and Angel, it has a 'you' vibe already."  
  
Angel walked towards them.  
  
"Hi." She called. "Sorry to get you here this early...or is it late for you? Anyway, I thought the sooner I do this the quicker you can move in. Consider it my house warming gift to you." She smiled. "This isn't really a blood rite but I do need some blood from you. It will bind the land to you. That's why the moon helps, anything to do with blood and the moon perks it right up."  
  
"So what exactly are you doing?" Angel asked.  
  
"Nothing evil or hokey." She replied quickly. "I don't want to introduce any foreign or alien magic here - it needs too much power and works against all the natural forces. I'm going to do a basic earth spell. It binds you to this land and the land to you. It does take some power though, so here's the catch...we use a piece of your souls." She saw their faces and hurried on. "Not much, a fleck, a grain of sand. It gives the place an entity...intelligence even. The air, the trees everything here will recognise you, recognise that you belong to them."  
  
"And here I thought that we owned them." Spike replied raising an eyebrow.  
  
"It's mutual ownership." Willow replied.  
  
Spike cast a glance at Angel. "Ok. I can live with that."  
  
"I don't think I can afford to lose much of my soul." Angel said quietly.  
  
"Don't worry, its not loss. Its still here. If in doubt try to make all your big decisions here."  
  
Angel looked at Spike and then nodded his agreement.  
  
Willow was picking out various ingredients and laying them out before her. She lit several large pillar candles whilst describing the spell.  
  
"We're protecting you in the most natural fashion. Any attempted intrusions, electronic or magical and the air itself will reject them reflect them back. The grounds will be so tied to you that most others will feel uncomfortable here and if they're enemies then, frankly mister, I wouldn't want to be here when those bushes turn hostile."  
  
She turned away to pick up a bowl and a knife.  
  
"Is she kidding?" Angel whispered.  
  
"Don't think so, Mate."  
  
"Sorry. This is the icky part, but I need about a cup of blood from each of you."  
  
"Vampires, luv. No eww factor when it comes to blood."  
  
They both cut themselves and let their blood mingle in the bowl.  
  
"Stand either side of me."  
  
They obeyed and she closed her eyes holding the bowl in front of her.  
  
She spoke softly.  
  
"Oh great goddess hear my prayer, whisper to the earth and air, from this blood, the soul, the spark. Breathe into earth and air and bark."  
  
Her eyes turned dark and her hair seemed to take on blonde roots. Anyone watching from the outside would have seen the three figures haloed in a blue nimbus, which then seemed to dissipate into the bowl the girl was holding.  
  
"Ok that's all I need from you for now. It'll be light in an hour so you might want to get moving. Although, if you could walk the perimeter and spend fifteen minutes visiting different bits of the gardens, whilst I initiate the protection spell, I'm sure the land would appreciate it and it would help to make the spell stronger."  
  
"Yeah? Ok we'll do that."  
  
"Spike, does she know what she's doing?"  
  
"Yeah, she really does. Come on let's go talk to the plants."  
  
-  
  
Wesley was at work early after a troubled night. He had never realised that he had that sort of darkness within him. That he could torture someone was a possibility, that he would be so good at it...no, he wouldn't have guessed it. But it had been to save Fred's life and Knox was the one who had fooled her and betrayed her, even now it could make his blood boil to think about it.  
  
He knew how Angel had felt, that single-minded focus to find his childe and to hell with everyone else. Thank god Fred had been there to pull him back. Perhaps that's what Spike did for the dark haired vampire kept him from that gaping maw where good and evil become irrelevant to purpose.  
  
Fred had found it hard to understand. In the end Wesley had turned to her and said, "If someone gained my trust whilst cold bloodedly planning to kill me, what would you do? If this person had information that could save me, where would you draw the line when extracting this information?" Fred had slowly nodded because at the point she'd almost understood.  
  
They spent the night together, quietly holding each other. In the morning they smiled at each other and began afresh, no more was said about the incident. Wes pursued information in a more mundane fashion...he returned to his books. Fred was excited about something she was working on so they travelled into work together.  
  
Wesley spent the morning tracing references and dead ends. One of his staff knocked and entered, in some agitation.  
  
"Sir? Mr Wyndham-Pryce. I think I have some thing. A reference to the Old Ones."  
  
He presented the text for inspection. Wesley took it and read the relevant paragraph, whilst walking slowly back to his desk.  
  
"Absolutely intriguing. How did you find this? I haven't heard of this manuscript before."  
  
"It was the words, 'old ones'. It made m recall something I'd seen about a race that preceded man. If they preceded the written word then I thought I might be better looking for the older legends."  
  
"Yes, I see." Wesley replied distractedly. "This is excellent. Very good work."  
  
-  
  
Spike had persuaded Angel to return to the slayer house to meet his girls.  
  
Buffy appeared at one point looking decidedly groggy.  
  
"Why didn't you stop me?" She asked Spike. "You know me and drink are non- mixy things."  
  
"But you were having such a good time." Spike replied.  
  
She noticed Angel lurking slightly in the shadows and suddenly became aware of her appearance, trying to smooth down her bed hair.  
  
"Oh, Angel and I look...I mean it's good to see you, looking so bright...and perky...and ...excuse me, I think I'm going to be sick."  
  
"Shouldn't we...?" Angel asked in concern.  
  
"What? Go in and watch her being sick? It might be amusing...up to the point where she stakes our hides."  
  
"Ah. Right."  
  
The slayers were in the training room waiting. Spike introduced them to Angel.  
  
"I've been told you had a day off yesterday, so we're going to be making up for it today. Today we're going to teach you to take down Angelus."  
  
"We are?" Angel asked, obvious misgivings showing on his face.  
  
"Yeah, Peaches we are. You're gonna think like Angelus for an hour."  
  
"But can't they get to know Angel first?" He asked.  
  
"And supposing you lose your soul in your ten minutes making nice time? What will the bints do then?"  
  
"That's ridiculous..." He realised that all the slayers were listening intently to their conversation and sighed. He let down some barriers and could feel the demon's delight.  
  
Spike was saying, "Notice the different. His stance has changed, his eyes are brighter and he looks more alert and watchful."  
  
"Hello, Spike."  
  
"Angelus."  
  
"So you got a soul, too. You're a fool childe. Not even the 'perfect happiness' escape clause. Which is a shame because there are a few tasty morsels here just aching to give it to you." His lecherous look made the girls nervous.  
  
"He has a quick tongue and he'll use it to weaken to you. Divide and conquer. It's an effective stratagem." Spike instructed.  
  
"What my dear childe didn't say is that I tell the truth, nothing is quite so hurtful as the truth." He turned to Erica. "Don't you think you're a bit...fat to be an effective slayer?" He asked amiably. Erica stared him down, completely unfazed.  
  
"In your pairs." Spike ordered. "Fight as a team, watch each other's backs."  
  
They moved as a unit, cautiously circling Angelus. He sprang over their heads so that he was outside their threatening circle.  
  
"You need to be quicker than that." Spike said. "Else he'll just start playing games and demoralising you."  
  
"Spike? I'm not playing this game. I'm not going to fight just so that you can teach them to bring me down like some bloody animal. Also you're really starting to irritate me, childe. I know how much you like to talk but would you just hold you tongue for five minutes!"  
  
Spike just grinned impudently, "Defeat my slayers and perhaps I will."  
  
"What's the point, you're not going to let me drink anyway." He pouted.  
  
"Not from them. Defeat them you get my neck."  
  
Angelus looked interested but the girls looked horrified.  
  
"Right. This is not a game any more. If he wins, he'll drain me, make no mistake about it. Not life threatening but I'll be out of it for a few days, maybe weeks. I'm trusting you lot to defend me."  
  
They looked at each other determinedly and moved into attack formation. Erica and Chris took lead and immediately launched an attack. Angelus grinned and crouched to receive them, using their own speed to send them tumbling behind him. Neesha caught him with a roundhouse kick from the side, he caught her foot as he twisted away and sent her spinning, Kirsty was immediately on him with a flurry of kicks and punches, knocking him back. The next pair moved in taking his legs from under, he rolled with the fall and leapt to his feet away from the main action.  
  
He grinned over at Spike. "They're no Buffy are they?"  
  
A well aimed fist connected with the side of his face as Erica put all her weight behind the blow and his head snapped back. The fight continued with the girls gradually becoming accustomed to his turn of speed and taunting tongue. But they weren't really making an impact, there again nor was Angelus.  
  
Suddenly Spike doubled up in pain, of all the time for a vision to strike. He was exposed and vulnerable. Angelus sprang in front of him and turned around, growling threateningly at the girls.  
  
"Keep away from him!"  
  
Chris made a move towards Spike, regardless, and was stuck so quickly that the movement was a blur to her.  
  
"You thought you saw me fight before? That was nothing. Now keep the hell away from him!"  
  
Slowly Spike straightened up. He looked at the other vampire  
  
"Angelus. I'm ok." Angelus reached out to reassure himself and slowly relaxed.  
  
Spike looked into his eyes and gradually saw Angel staring back at him.  
  
"Listen, you lot carry on do a few work outs and cool down. I have to deal with this. Erica you're in charge."  
  
The girls were left stunned by what had happened, not the vision, they knew Spike was a seer but it was the first time they'd been exposed to the relationship between sire and childe...between Spike and Angelus.  
  
"What did you see?" Angel asked.  
  
"A cave, with a nest of eggs all about to hatch into some charming little demon bugs."  
  
Angel pulled out his phone.  
  
"Wesley, we've got a situation. We need to go clear the caves of a load of hatching bugs."  
  
They made a dash into the safety of Angel's car. The others were waiting and ready, including Fred, bearing a remarkable resemblance to Lara Croft but with more serviceable trousers instead of revealing shorts.  
  
"Oh hi guys. I've got this new thing that I want to try out." She patted at her bulky weapon. "So I thought I'd come with you this time."  
  
"Isn't she fantastic?" Wesley asked.  
  
Spike and Angel resigned themselves to having to protect her and keep her away from trouble.  
  
-  
  
Fred took out a whole wall of egg sacs with her portable flame thrower but she'd failed to notice as one of the bugs skittered up behind her. There was s gunshot. She whipped around to see Wesley holding a smoking pistol and the bug dead on the floor. She grinned at him, they made a good team.  
  
"We got the nest." she said.  
  
"Yes, the others are just doing a sweep. Nasty little buggers."  
  
"They're kind of cool the way they mutate the surrounding microbes to form the eggs."  
  
Wesley's eyes lit up with amusement. "Are you trying to turn me on?"  
  
Fred looked back at the still flaming eggs. "A roaring fire, a cosy nest, it is kind of romantic."  
  
She was so smart and funny and brave. Wesley took her in his arms and they kissed with a fiery passion that made the background flames pale in comparison.  
  
They heard Angel and Spike approach and pulled apart. Angel had been pierced by a sword and where it protruded from his back it had also speared a large bug.  
  
"The thing was about to strike. It was on your back. What was I supposed to do?"  
  
"I don't know. How about asking me to turn around? You just enjoy stabbing me." Angel complained.  
  
"Not true. You know I much prefer hitting you with a blunt instrument."  
  
Angel let out a little growl  
  
"Oh come on! I save you from becoming bug food and you get a bit cranky cus what? I ruined your shirt?"  
  
"It's my favourite!"  
  
"It's the same as twenty others lining your wardrobe."  
  
Angel snorted in disbelief.  
  
"Angel?" Fred asked.  
  
"Ah. I'm alright." Angel replied bravely.  
  
"No. I just wanted the bug. Spike, you managed to keep it in pretty good shape. I burnt all mine." She said. "Hold still Angel, you know how I like new specimens."  
  
-  
  
Whilst Angel was extricating himself from the sword and allowing his wound to be tended to, Wesley took Spike, Fred and Gunn through the extract on the Old Ones.  
  
"It's a short account of one of the first champions. One of these beings escaped from a place called the Deeper Well. The champion managed to return it."  
  
"Well, that's not so bad. We've a few champions knocking around here. Me, Angel, Buffy, probably every single slayer is at least a potential champion." Spike replied in some relief.  
  
"The champion returned it in the end, but as it was dragged back to its resting place it tore and clung to every person it passed. It killed thousands of people."  
  
"Ok, so we're back to ensuring this thing doesn't escape." Gunn replied.  
  
Wesley nodded.  
  
"That would be best. The ritual to return it costs the life of a champion."  
  
Spike finally broke the silence looking to the ceiling in disbelief.  
  
"Bloody typical! There's always a snag and it's always one of us who has to pay the price. You have to kill your lover, or die, or go to hell, or be consumed by fire. Is that all we are? Something to be used and consumed." He ranted.  
  
They looked at him in sympathy.  
  
"Don't tell Buffy or Angel."  
  
"But Spike..."  
  
"No. You look at this and you find another answer, in case the worst happens. You know what Angel's like, he'll go do something noble and stupid and totally unnecessary. Tell him everything else except what happens to the champion. Meanwhile, find some answers."  
  
"Right. We'll get the answer but we also have to discover the location of the Deeper Well."  
  
"Yeah. I'll let you get back to work and I'll go update the pouf."  
  
Later that day the sarcophagus arrived.  
  
Angel had it put in quarantine under twenty four hour guard, until they discovered where it needed to be returned to. As the day drew on without any conclusions he sent them home. He had a feeling there would be some long days ahead.  
  
The vampires travelled to their house and as they entered through the gate they looked at each other.  
  
"Can you feel it too?" Angel asked.  
  
"Oh yeah."  
  
"We belong here."  
  
"It wants us here. I'm no Dru, but even I can hear the air singing around us."  
  
They got out of the car. Spike walked towards one of the old crooked trees, holding out a hand, almost touching it then...  
  
"Angel! That tree just..." He stopped, he felt foolish but that tree had moved a branch the last fraction, to touch his hand. "I think that tree just said hi."  
  
"Well tell it 'hi' back. Where's your manners boy?"  
  
"Oh sod off." He replied but surreptitiously gave the tree a quick pat.  
  
There were some deliveries awaiting them, still in their plastic.  
  
"Angel?"  
  
"You know...I thought we might stay here tonight so it's just a few bits. A refrigerator, a microwave, a couple of chairs, a bed. Willow arranged it. There should be a cool box around here somewhere already. Hope you don't mind?"  
  
"You spending your money on our house? Hmmm. Well I'm deeply offended but I suppose I'll forgive you. Come on lets drag these downstairs, we'll start our nest. Except...how's the wound?"  
  
"The wound you gave me, is mending nicely thank you. Ok, we'll get this stuff in place. But then we have to go. Don't forget we're shopping tonight."  
  
"Oh. Was hoping you might have forgotten."  
  
-  
  
They'd already been to look at furnishings. Angel had found it particularly frustrating because Spike had no opinion, as long as the couch was comfy enough to sprawl on. Then they got to electrical goods, where the tables were turned. Angel couldn't care less what sort of TV or stereo system they bought, he wanted to go for the cheapest. Spike's look was so contemptuous that he kept his mouth shut after that. In the end they decided they'd had enough of house shopping and it was time to move on.  
  
"Hurry up, Spike. They close in an hour."  
  
"Thank God for that! This is starting to feel like an eternity, Mate."  
  
"Don't be such a wimp." Angel replied striding ahead casually holding half a dozen carriers.  
  
"It's not natural." Spike complained. "You know what you're doing? You're subverting your hunting instincts into shopping. It's downright wussy."  
  
"Come on, Spike. Keep up."  
  
"It's embarrassing, you're supposed to be a vampire, terrifying your prey, not in the mall stalking down bargains...oh...wait up, just need to go in here."  
  
"Spike?"  
  
But Spike had already disappeared into a music store.  
  
"I've lost my music. What Harmony didn't burn is now at the bottom of the Sunnydale crater."  
  
"We haven't got time for this!"  
  
"I ain't got much money with me so I've got to take my time, spend it carefully."  
  
Angel began to get agitated, there was an Armani section tucked away in the next part of the mall.  
  
"You've got three minutes. I'll pay providing you're at the till in exactly three minutes."  
  
Spike shot off using his vampire turn of speed to excellent effect. He was a blur of movement as he raced around the shop.  
  
"Two minutes." Angel called. "I've changed my mind you've got two minutes!"  
  
Angel whinged all the way to the next shop.  
  
"$300 Spike! How can you spend that much on CD's? I bet you haven't even heard of half of them. I mean..." he picked one at random, "...Nine Inch Nails?"  
  
"Bloody fantastic band. You like that entire miserable, sob in your pint, country music? Well that Johnny Cash bloke covered one of their songs. See? You'll probably love it. Anyway, I bought one for you, too."  
  
"Did you?" Angel asked slightly warily. "Which one?"  
  
"An English bint. Dido. You'll appreciate the first song...it's you and Buffy. Also the ponce in the video looked just like you."  
  
"You managed to put that much thought into your two minute spree? I'm actually quite flattered."  
  
"So you should be."  
  
"Though it was my money."  
  
"It's the thought that counts."  
  
Angel sighed with relief when they finally entered his chosen shop. Not that he was here to look for himself. It was Spike he was shopping for. He hoped the English vampire appreciated the effort that he was making. Oh that was a nice button down shirt and they had it in extra large. He picked it up. When he thought about it, these weren't really Spike's sort of clothes. He carried on pulling out things in his own size.  
  
Spike sat slouched in one of the chairs. One of the assistants approached him with a smile. "Can I help you, sir?"  
  
"Well...yeah. I'm after casual. Dark colours."  
  
The assistant's smile never wavered. "Certainly, what size?"  
  
"Medium. 32 inch waist, regular length. Need about four outfits, jeans, a couple of jackets...I'm looking for cool, not teenage trendy. That man over there is paying."  
  
She looked at the lean, ascetic man, with dirty, worn clothes and then over at Angel's powerful, sleek, well dressed, well groomed figure. "Yes. I understand." She replied, her mouth tightening somewhat. "In that case, I think you should also be looking at two or three pairs of shoes, socks, underwear, belts and of course accessories. We do some rather nice watches? Could I also persuade you to add a suit?"  
  
Spike smiled at her, "Sounds perfect."  
  
"Spike? Why does the shop assistant keep looking at me in that strange way? What have you said to her?"  
  
"Nothing. Just asked her to look for some stuff for me and told her you'd put them on your card."  
  
"Oh. I don't think she likes me."  
  
"We'll leave if you want." Spike said magnanimously.  
  
Angel looked at the assortment of clothes he'd gathered and decided not to be put off by one rude shop assistant. Spike waited for him outside the shop and counted down to the explosion. Three. Two. One.  
  
"How much?! What the hell has the little sod bought?"  
  
They walked back to the car in silence.  
  
"Hey? I'm sorry. I didn't think you'd mind. Well not really...do you mind? It's only money."  
  
"It's not the money." Angel growled.  
  
"Not the money? Then what's got you so upset?"  
  
"That woman thought you were...I was...we were..."  
  
"For Godsake, Angel. Just spit it out."  
  
"She thought I was your...sugar daddy!"  
  
Spike began to laugh. Angel glared at him.  
  
"It's not FUNNY!"  
  
"Lighten up, Peaches. What the hell does it matter what anyone thinks we are? It's gonna happen occasionally, two guys living with each other, so what? Are you going to stand there and patiently explain what we are to each other? Cus I vote for no, they're not going to understand so why bother?"  
  
"I guess. I wouldn't know where to start, even when I try to explain to people who know us. Not sure I can explain it to myself." Angel admitted.  
  
"Its not easy, it gets confusing...spent a hundred years denying that we're sire and childe, acting like it's not important that we don't care. Just all meaningless vampire shit."  
  
"But it's not meaningless, is it? It's the one thing that gives meaning to everything else." Angel said frowning.  
  
"If it helps, I find it as confusing as you. I don't think there are rules or lore that deal with this...two souled vampires. Sire and childe."  
  
"So we'll just make up the rules as we go? And damn what the rest of the world thinks."  
  
"Exactly."  
  
They walked in silence but this time it was comfortable.  
  
"So what did you buy?" Angel finally asked. "I think you've seriously wounded my credit card, it may never recover."  
  
"Not sure, I let the bint choose."  
  
"Spike! How can you just trust a stranger to choose your clothes?"  
  
"I wanted surprises, couldn't help noticing that if I left it up to you the surprise would be that I got nothing."  
  
"Oh." Angel looked guiltily at all his bags.  
  
"Ah, don't worry about it. C'mon. Lets go to Wal-Mart, they're open all night."  
  
"Wal-Mart? I don't..."  
  
"Yeah, you do. I need some Cocoa Pops."  
  
An hour later, Cocoa Pops had turned into a trolley load of food and booze, as well as various household items - crockery, glasses; cutlery; bedding.  
  
"How can we call in for one item and come out with all this?" Angel asked plaintively as he put his card back into his wallet.  
  
"Beats me." Spike replied, reaching for his carton of fags and pulling out a bag of nacho chips.  
  
They returned to their house, weighed down with purchases. Spike began unpacking the food until he reached the beer. He opened a can and tossed one to Angel. They took a chair each and settled back in these strange and yet familiar surroundings.  
  
"Comfy?" Angel asked.  
  
"Yeah. Can't believe we're here. Even as empty as it is, it feels right."  
  
"I know. The house, everything, it just seems to fits itself around us."  
  
"I was speaking to Red. She said this place had been waiting for us. She did the spell but never expected it to react so powerfully. It belongs to us. Feel it in my bones."  
  
They spent a pleasant night with Spike dissing Angel's taste in clothes and Angel bemoaning Spike's lack of taste in music. Spike finally pulled his bags out and started examining the clothes chosen by the shop assistant.  
  
"A suit?" Angel said in surprise.  
  
"Yeah. She said it was, ageless, a classic. Well you never know. Might need one sometime in the next century." Spike replied as he continued to explore his bags.  
  
"Oh these are good." He pulled out some soft leather trousers.  
  
"Just don't wear them when I've got mine on else we'll look totally gay."  
  
"Thought we decided we didn't give a damn?"  
  
"Yeah..." Angel said slowly, "...in principle."  
  
As the night wore on Angel became increasingly restless. "I hope this house is really protecting us because I need to tell you something."  
  
Spike went still. "Go on."  
  
"Soon there is going to be stuff happening."  
  
"Why, what are you doing?"  
  
"I've got a chance to bring down Wolfram and Hart. It's going to look bad but whatever happens, I need you to trust me."  
  
"You need to ask?"  
  
"You don't know..."  
  
"What have you done? Sold your soul?"  
  
"No. I signed away Shanshu."  
  
"What?"  
  
"It's the price I had to pay for this chance."  
  
"Is that why I won that fight? The cup of eternal torment....is that why I won?"  
  
"As if I would ever deliberately lose a fight to you, childe. You won fair and square."  
  
"But it's not fair is it? Surely just the fact that you'd give it up to win a battle must mean that you're the one who deserves it? It was your hope, your dream."  
  
"I had a taste of it once and it wasn't what I expected." Angel said quietly. Spike cocked an eyebrow at him.  
  
"A Mohra demon brought me to life, made me human again. I had a day in the sun with Buffy but it wasn't enough. When I became human I expected fanfares and trumpets heralding the hero's reward. Instead I got a few drops of demon blood. I couldn't help Buffy fight. I was a liability. I wanted my strength, my power back."  
  
"Even if it condemns you to hell?" Spike was genuinely confused.  
  
"I've been to hell. I survived."  
  
"There must have been something good about being human?"  
  
"I made love to Buffy and didn't lose my soul. Oh and food tastes better...though it gave me indigestion and made me sick."  
  
"Doesn't sound like a barrel load of laughs."  
  
They sat in silence for a while.  
  
"So what have you set in motion?"  
  
"I can't tell you. We're being watched all the time and it's important that everyone reacts naturally, even you. Just...don't ever stop trusting me."  
  
Spike nodded.  
  
They spent their first night in their new house, falling quickly into a deep dreamless sleep. They awoke naturally for once, no alarms or phones, feeling more refreshed that they could ever remember.  
  
"I wish we didn't have to leave here. Not yet." Spike said.  
  
"We'll be back tonight. Something to look forward to."  
  
The car bounced down the drive. Angel looked back.  
  
"What are those?"  
  
"Well the house is protecting us so I thought I'd show that we were protecting it. I just put up a few trespasser warnings and such like."  
  
Angel read a couple of the hand painted signs.  
  
"'Trespassers Will Be Sold As Slaves'? 'Vandals Will Be Sold As Eunuchs'?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Nice sentiments but probably not legal...I'll get Gunn to look into it."  
  
-  
  
"Giles, Willow, Buffy and Andrew are visiting us today. They want to take a look at the sarcophagus and hear what we have. At least Giles, Willow and Andrew do, I think Buffy is just curious about this place."  
  
"You mean she's a nosy little bint." He saw Angel's eyes focus behind him, sniffed the air and quickly added "And I mean that in the most affectionate way...oh hello Buffy, I didn't see you there."  
  
"I'm not little...petite, maybe slight, but not little, am I?"  
  
"Sweetheart. You walk in and you fill the room." Lorne reassured her.  
  
"Oh. Well, I know I've put on a bit of weight..."  
  
"Buffy, you're perfect. And insecurities are like petticoats, best if they don't show."  
  
"Well, thanks. I've now hit an all time low, fashion advice from the man in the eighties time warp."  
  
Angel stepped in, he had a feeling these two could bicker for hours.  
  
"Where are the others?"  
  
"Wesley is taking them through what they've found so far."  
  
"Well then. Let's join our guests." He held out his arm to allow them to precede him through the door.  
  
Wesley was once again explaining their search for the Deeper Well.  
  
"Would this be like a giant hole in the ground?" Willow asked with a frown.  
  
"Well the name certainly suggests it."  
  
"We might be able to help." She turned to Giles. "The coven taught me about the earth and how everything is connected. If there is a hole in the ground containing that sort of power then they're going to know about it."  
  
"Of course! Why didn't I think of that? Willow, you get on the phone. Angel, we may have an answer for you shortly and you'll be able to take this thing back."  
  
"Really? That's great news. I have to admit I never thought it would be this easy."  
  
"Well, don't celebrate too soon, we're not done yet." Willow replied as she picked up a phone and began dialling a number.  
  
"Where's Andrew?" Spike asked.  
  
"Fred took him to see the sarcophagus." Giles replied.  
  
Angel whirled around. "I gave specific orders that Fred was to go nowhere near that thing!"  
  
"Angel, calm down. She's not going in. She was just taking Andrew to see it."  
  
Angel wasn't appeased. He had such a bad feeling about this. He left for the quarantined area. And sighed with relief when he saw Fred surveying the sarcophagus through one of the observation windows. Spike caught up and joined Fred. He took a deep breath.  
  
"What the frigging hell is he doing in there?"  
  
"He said he was an expert on these things, so I didn't see any harm in letting him in." Fred explained.  
  
Spike yelled to the security guards to open the door, they looked towards Fred.  
  
"Open the door." Fred ordered beginning to feel some of Spike's panic. Then she noticed that Spike had gone still.  
  
They watched in horror as Andrew laid a hand on one of the gems. A puff of fog seemed to rise from the sarcophagus and Andrew coughed as he breathed it in.  
  
Angel spoke into his phone. "Gunn, we need that information from Willow now. Order the jet, as soon as we have a location we leave."  
  
Spike ran up to Wesley's office.  
  
"Wesley. We need that answer. How do we return Illyria to her resting place without killing the champion?"  
  
Wesley hung his head wearily.  
  
"Who?"  
  
"Andrew."  
  
He nodded.  
  
"We're close, Spike. We need a few more hours. You gave us the idea when you mentioned all the champions we have available. We thought that must be some way of spreading the burden so that the weight of the ritual of returning isn't just on one person's shoulders. You might all feel slightly weaker afterwards but no one should die."  
  
"Thanks Wes. What should I do?"  
  
"Take the slayers with you. Tell Angel that you may need them to fight your way into the Deeper Well. Actually that bit's true. There are guardians. Anyway when we get the answer everyone will be there, in place."  
  
Spike went to tell Giles that they needed the slayers.  
  
"I've got it. They knew exactly the place I was talking about." Willow called. "It's in England."  
  
They finally had the jet ready and the sarcophagus loaded on. Angel agreed to bring the slayers and within half hour the jet was taking off.  
  
Andrew was getting hotter. "His body is being prepared. Once the metamorphosis is complete we will have lost Andrew forever and be dealing with a god." Giles said.  
  
"Are we going to make it in time?" Angel asked.  
  
Nobody answered him.  
  
When they arrived there were cars waiting to drive them through the English countryside. Gunn had never travelled before and spent his time gazing quietly at the lush, green land, so alien to his native California.  
  
The slayers were quiet. They had been given the basic circumstances and knew that they may have to eventually take on a god.  
  
"Don't worry, you'll do fine." Spike said reassuringly.  
  
"Course you will." Buffy agreed. "Just remember what you've been taught."  
  
The car finally pulled to a halt.  
  
"This is it." Willow said.  
  
"Where?" Buffy asked looking around.  
  
"I'm guessing that tree." Angel replied pointing out an old gnarled tree. His guess was confirmed as demons started to pour forth from a crack in the tree.  
  
"Strategy?" Spike asked Angel.  
  
"Take my hand." Spike frowned. Angel wasn't really the sort for public displays of affection.  
  
"Oh. St Petersburg."  
  
"I thought you'd forgotten." Angel grinned.  
  
Demons came roaring towards them. They stepped apart pulling a thin wire taut between them, neatly cutting them in half. They joined the others in the fray but very soon all the guardians had been defeated.  
  
"Is that it?" Angel yelled. "Is that all you've got?"  
  
"I'd say that was enough." A figure stepped forward.  
  
"Drogyn? You're the keeper of the well?" Angel asked.  
  
"Have been for decades."  
  
"Who the hell are...?" Spike began.  
  
"If you ask me a single question I will kill you." Drogyn stated.  
  
Spike turned a startled look to Angel. "He really doesn't like questions." Angel explained.  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"He has to tell the truth."  
  
"You're here about Illyria?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Walk in."  
  
Buffy and Giles were supporting Andrew and four slayers picked up the sarcophagus. They followed Drogyn in to a large chamber. It had a pit spanned by an insubstantial seeming bridge.  
  
"There was a race of demons pure. They warred as naturally as you humans breathe. Illyria was one of the most powerful, the most beloved the most feared. Then it disappeared a short time ago."  
  
"That makes you a pretty crap jailer." Spike saw Drogyn's face "Statement." He pointed out.  
  
"Your friend talks a great deal."  
  
"So much so he's sometimes even right." Angel replied.  
  
Drogyn pointed to the endless pit, lined all the way around and down as far as the eye could see with other sarcophagus, similar to the one they had.  
  
"As you can see my charges are nor few."  
  
"Bloody hell""  
  
"How far down does this pit go?" Giles asked.  
  
"All the way through the earth." Drogyn replied.  
  
They looked down the chasm in awed silence.  
  
"You wish to return Illyria?"  
  
Spike nodded but then let Angel reply. He stepped back toward the entrance and made a call.  
  
"Wesley. Need it now."  
  
"Not yet, Spike another ten minutes."  
  
Spike returned to Angel.  
  
"You must all keep your distance." Drogyn demanded. "It's already been released and will cling and rip into anyone close, in an attempt to stay."  
  
"I could try to set up some sort of containment around them." Willow offered. She turned to the slayers. "I'm not sure if it will be strong enough to hold a god but if I could borrow some of your strength to augment it, it might just work."  
  
The slayers agreed each nodding at her in turn.  
  
"Which of the champions will perform this rite?" Drogyn asked.  
  
Andrew clutched Spike's arm tightly.  
  
"Yeah, don't worry whelp. Not leaving you now."  
  
"You know this ritual."  
  
"Yeah, I know what needs to be done." Spike replied.  
  
He looked around at the assembled group and felt his eyes sting. He couldn't look at Angel. He turned to Andrew. They didn't have ten minutes, the boy was nearly all used up.  
  
"Come on then." He said hooking an arm around Andrew.  
  
Buffy suddenly darted forward and laid a hand on his arm. "Can I help?" She asked.  
  
Spike gave her a quick kiss and as he pulled away he whispered, "Yeah, look after him."  
  
Confusion etched her face as she watched the pair take their place on the middle of the bridge.  
  
Spike had obviously started the incantation. The air seemed to fizzle around the two men. Willow began speaking in a low voice, her spell draining power from the air around her. The slayers moved in and surrounded her. Spike raised his arms and Andrew slumped on to the bridge, it almost appeared as if he was cracking before their eyes as power poured forth from his body in angry, whipping strands, flashing and sparking as it hit Willow' shield, filling the air with the astringent smell of ozone. The slayers felt a momentary weakness as Willow called on their strength to hold the energy in.  
  
The air within seemed to writhe in fury, almost howling it's frustration as it thrashed within its prison. Suddenly they could clearly make out Andrew. All the power had drained from him leaving him like a rag doll, flopped down with his head resting on his knees. The energy now engulfed Spike, twisting ferociously around him. Despite being hit and buffeted he continued with the rite, holding on to one of the rope supports as the power lashed at him.  
  
And gradually it began to pour away towards the gem embedded in the sarcophagus. The onlookers all began to breathe again. Spike let go of the edge of the bridge. He looked weary and sad as he turned towards them, his eyes finally lingering on Angel.  
  
One last whipcord of energy seemed to enter right through the centre of his body. He threw his head back and screamed. As the rope of twisted energy pulled free from his body it appeared to tug Spike physically. He balanced precariously and then they all watched in horrified silence as he tumbled from the bridge.  
  
His body wheeled through the darkness and disappeared from sight.  
  
Someone screamed his name, just as Willow collapsed to the ground in exhaustion. Buffy flew to her side.  
  
Giles moved to help Andrew but the boy was limp and heavy. "Buffy. Angel." He called.  
  
Buffy turned to one of the slayers, "Look after her." She ordered. Angel too obeyed the call and moved onto the bridge where he saw his childe fall.  
  
Giles, Buffy and Angel stood, avoiding each other's eyes for fear one of them said something and made it real. It had all happened so quickly. Buffy peered over the edge. Spike was strong. He may have survived. He might be clinging to some piece of rock...  
  
"He's gone." Angel said in a voice devoid of any emotion. "He knew. He kissed Buffy and passed the visions on to her. And then he left. I felt him wink out of existence."  
  
Buffy looked at him in disbelief.  
  
Giles stared down at the never ending chasm beneath his feet.  
  
"There's a hole in the world." He said and turned away to hide the tears he was blinking back but he couldn't hide the grief in his voice. "You'd think the world would stand still and take bloody notice."  
  
No one else had words. They helped Andrew outside. There was the sound of sobbing.  
  
One of the slayers turned to him. "Tell us what happened!"  
  
Andrew shook his head. The storyteller had no more stories left to tell.  
  
Angel's phone rang, he answered it automatically.  
  
"Angel, it's Wesley. Listen, this is urgent. I can't get through to Spike. You need to stop him now. There's another way. Tell him there's another way."  
  
Angel pressed 'end call' and tossed the phone away.


	11. Life Beyond

**A/N **Reposted due to errors I didn't spot on previous proof read. On that note, if I decide to write anything else, is there anyone out there who would be kind enough to beta my writing? I know when I write I seem to be rather verbose so I do understand if you don't have time but it would be very much appreciated...  
  
**_Disclaimer:_**

Nope, still not mine. Joss's and ME's. Hope they don't mind me playing with them. Song extracts not mine either, Nine Inch Nails and Dido respectively.  
  
**_Distribution:_**

You're welcome but would you drop me a line and let me know first: stakeaclaimaol.com  
  
**_Summary:_**

They deal with Spike's death and plan for the coming battle.

**Life Beyond  
  
Chapter 11**  
  
Angel was alone, sprawled in one of the two chairs that furnished this basement room. He had his habitual glass of whiskey in his hand as he sat without moving, just thinking. Thinking about that arrogant English prick. His brow creased, he could smell him. Why the hell wouldn't he just go away?  
  
"Leave me alone, Spike." He said without looking up from his drink. Never know, perhaps it would work this time. He could almost hear Spike laughing at him.  
  
"Why not? Why won't you leave?" Angel demanded. "Your presence is anathema to me."  
  
Angel imagined Spike raising an eyebrow at him mockingly.  
  
"You swore you trusted me! You should have told me what you were going to do. What sort of weird trust is that? All games and show, no substance." He raised his alcohol hazed eyes and repeated, "No substance."  
  
The music played in the background. It was Spike's music. It was angry, hurting, tearing music. Spike was right. He liked it.  
  
"Why did you leave?" He demanded angrily.  
  
The bitter sweet voice crooned out the lyrics: 'I will let you down. I will make you hurt.'  
  
Angel sometimes thought he was going slightly mad. The room was empty. There was no Spike, except for the shadow woven from a lingering scent, overpowering grief and delusive imagination. Illusion. No mocking tones. No raised eyebrow. Just this...hurt.  
  
It had been a week. A week filled with self recrimination and guilt, Wesley, Fred, Andrew, Giles and Buffy, with Angel the solid strength at their centre, reassuring them. A rock that they leant upon. Eventually he could stand it no longer and retreated here, to their home, letting the warm presence wrap around him. He would immerse himself in the place, trying to find a piece of Spike in the comfort offered. Slowly the sense of Spike would come to him until he thought he could hear faint echoes of laughter, a voice accusing him of wallowing. Yeah, that sounded like Spike. He sighed, this was his life. A few hours of consolation, to remember what had almost been, before the whole routine began again.  
  
At work nothing broke through his stoic, calm, businesslike exterior. What he was working on was too important. He worked and he trained with the slayers until his body was so weary even his mind stilled. He called Nina and spent his evenings with her, another escape, a time without a single coherent thought in his head. It wasn't perfect; it .wasn't some high ideal of love. It was comfort snatched at, a brief respite. Then there was this place, part comfort and part pain. As Spike had promised, it was somewhere he could be himself for a few hours and to hell with the rest of the world. If he was alive at the end of all this, he might just come back here, bury himself in the earth and let the place look after him for a millennia or so.  
  
He knew he was closing down. Shutting people out but he couldn't think how to fix it. It was as if he'd forgotten how to care. The more days that passed the higher he built his walls. Until one day, opening the door into Wesley's office he heard a voice behind him say "Dad?"  
  
He turned to see Connor staring right at him.  
  
Such love and familiarity in his voice, unlike anything he'd ever heard from his petulant, angry son before. He could feel those walls crumbling around him. He was about to say something, when Connor brushed passed him into Wesley's office and said to the man sitting there, "Dad? What's going on?"  
  
Angel looked at Wesley with a similar query written on his face.  
  
Wesley took him to one side and explained, the boy seemed to have extraordinary powers and his parents were concerned.  
  
"We're not taking this case."  
  
"But isn't that what we're here for, to help people like them?"  
  
"We're too busy for this sort of stuff, Wes."  
  
Wesley's mouth tightened at the obvious dismissal.  
  
But Angel couldn't help his curiosity and as the family left he followed behind. Their SUV pulled in and, to his consternation, demons immediately began attacking the family, hauling them bodily from the vehicle. Connor was too unaware of his own strength. Each well delivered blow out was accompanied by a shout of astonishment. Angel flew across to help him, taking out his pent up fury in a series of punches and kicks, which sent his opponents reeling, finally lifting the last demon above his head and sending him crashing to the ground.  
  
Angel realised that Connor was looking at him in awe. He gave a half embarrassed grin, trying not to be too obvious as he basked in his son's approval and undisguised adulation.  
  
"It's nothing. I do this sort of thing everyday." He gave a half shrug.  
  
The look on Connor's face, the warmth in his eyes was more than he could ever have hoped for. Connor rushed to help his surrogate parents but it was ok. It was enough. Angel helped them back to Wolfram and Hart and called Wesley to let him know they were taking this case after all.  
  
Together they identified the attacking demons as being the henchmen of Cyvus Vail, a serious power in the demon world.  
  
"He's not trying to remain anonymous; he's using them as a calling card."  
  
"Then I'm going calling." Angel rose and shrugged into his jacket.  
  
"Angel! He might be trying to bait you. At least take back up."  
  
"I said I'd take care of it, Wes. Drop it!"  
  
Wesley looked after him in hurt and confusion, there was something strange going on. He left the boy with his parents, whilst he contacted Fred, Gunn and Lorne. They needed to research this Cyvus Vail, give Angel some additional backup even if he thought he didn't need it.  
  
"The Company used him for some fairly serious mojo." Lorne commented as he looked through the Firm's accounts. "Specialised in memory restructures, mind control and temporal shifts. Oh my!"  
  
"Lorne?" Fred asked.  
  
"Take a look." Lorne said passing the accounts over.  
  
Fred and Wesley pored over them.  
  
"All those sorcerers, all at the same time."  
  
"Some sort of reality shift?" Fred suggested.  
  
"Yes, and look at the date."  
  
Lorne nodded. "The day we took over Wolfram and Hart."  
  
"Uh guys you might want to look at this." Gunn let a piece of parchment drift to the desk in front of them.  
  
They all stared in disbelief at a contract. It also bore their Wolfram and Hart start date, and had been signed in blood by Angel himself.  
  
-  
  
Angel returned in a sombre mood. For his son to keep this shiny, happy existence, Vail demanded that Connor killed Sahjahn, an extremely powerful demon. The sorcerer was responsible for creating Connor's new life and had a cube, which once broken would return the original memories together with the anguish and pain that marred his beautiful son. Angel spoke to Connor and explained that it was prophesised he would kill the demon Sahjahn and this was the sorcerer's price for leaving them in peace.  
  
"So I kill this demon to protect my family?" he asked.  
  
Angel thought about it and then nodded. It was true, if he didn't defeat the demon then his illusion of 'family' would melt away.  
  
"Okay. I'll do it." Angel had expected no less from this boy.  
  
He gave him some brief lessons. It worried him. Connor no longer had the basic battle skills he'd once possessed. All the way back to Vail he kept giving additional advice, anything that might swing the fight. Sure, it was prophesised that his son would win, but Angel no longer had faith in such things.  
  
He hoped that he might be able to help, but immediately the boy entered the room containing the demon, a barrier was dropped into place. Angel watched in frustration, his boy seemed no match and as he took a hit Angel gave into instinct and rushed the barrier.  
  
Cyvus tutted at him as he rebounded to the floor. "Sorry, not your fight."  
  
"Open the doorway. Right. Now."  
  
The sorcerer held the memory cube out threateningly. "There's no need to bring back the past if we don't have to."  
  
Wesley, Fred and Gunn had easily entered the sorcerer's dwelling. Angel had helpfully killed all the guards and they listened to this exchange from the shadows.  
  
"The past is in the cube." Wesley whispered. "I'll go for that. You two know what to do."  
  
On his signal they rushed in. Wesley knocked the cube from the old demon's hand and caught it before it hit the floor, Gunn covered Angel with a version of Fred's tranquillizer gun and whilst Vail was distracted following the fate of the cube, Fred pressed a needle to his neck and watched as he collapsed.  
  
Wesley looked at the yellow cube. "Is this your 30 pieces of silver?" He wondered.  
  
"Wes..."  
  
"For selling us out. Is this your payment?"  
  
"Wesley...don't. You don't understand." He looked towards where Connor was still battling away. "He's my son."  
  
"You're son? Everything that's happened at Wolfram and Hart...Illyria...Spike? Was Spike the price? Did you swap him for your son?"  
  
Angel felt the accusation as a physical pain; the anguish was reflected in his tortured eyes.  
  
"Wes. No."  
  
"I've seen the contract. You've altered reality. Why are you so afraid of this cube? Will it undo everything that has happened?"  
  
"Trust me."  
  
"I can't." Wesley replied sadly and smashed the cube. At the same moment his carefully constructed world crashed around him.  
  
Wesley sank back in horror.  
  
"I'm...sorry." His voice sounded harsh as he forced the words from his constricted throat.  
  
Fred looked at him as if she didn't know him. "You took his son."  
  
Gunn backed away from Angel shaking his head.  
  
Angel watched them and then fearfully swung back to where Connor was fighting for his life. How would the returning memories affect him? Suddenly the boy's were more on par with the demon. It was Connor who finally swung the axe, cleanly chopping the demon's head off. The barrier dropped between them and Angel approached his son tentatively.  
  
He looked a little confused and then grinned.  
  
"Whoa. Went a little crazy there for a minute."  
  
"You're ok?"  
  
"Yeah. Just want to get back to my parents."  
  
"Oh. Right." Angel looked at him in confusion, wondering how he remained unaffected; there was no sign that he remembered anything at all.  
  
They returned to Wolfram and Hart in silence.  
  
Angel walked his son back to his other life.  
  
-  
  
"There are two sets of memories." Wesley said softly to Fred. "Those that happened and those that are fabricated. It's difficult to tell which are which."  
  
Fred hugged him. "Push reality out of your head. Angel bought our new memories for a reason. Accept them as a gift."  
  
"To hide from the truth?" Wesley asked.  
  
Fred ran her fingers soothingly through his hair.  
  
"Not to hide, to help endure it."  
  
"Am I different?"  
  
"Perhaps, but you're still my Wes."  
  
-  
  
Angel reluctantly said goodbye to his son.  
  
"Do you really have to leave, uh right now, I mean?"  
  
"Yeah. Its mum and dad, they don't feel comfortable here. And I do what I can to protect my family." He looked Angel in the eye. "I learnt that from my dad."  
  
Angel found himself swelling with pride at that ambiguous statement, hoping it had the meaning he'd imbued it with.  
  
He watched him disappear, then took a deep breath and walked into Wesley's office.  
  
"What made you think I'd trade Spike?" He asked without any preamble.  
  
"I didn't." Wesley replied quietly. "Not really. I was just looking for an excuse...a reason why it wasn't my fault. I didn't find the answer for him. He was depending on me and I let him down. I didn't want it to be my fault."  
  
"No one's fault, Wes. Some things are just written. From the moment Illyria was released it was always going to be one of us - if not him then Fred or Buffy or me. He made his own choice."  
  
"He didn't want to die. He wanted an answer, he had plans...you had plans."  
  
Angel managed to choke down his own bitterness.  
  
"Yeah, we had plans. What should I do? Kick my feet against the ground, throw back my head and howl? We're not children, we know life isn't fair. There aren't any answers when we ask 'why?' Its life that's all."  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
Angel nodded and asked, "Do you trust me now?"  
  
Wesley nodded. "If it still means anything to you at all, I trust you."  
  
"Maybe your first instincts were right, perhaps you shouldn't."  
  
Angel left, his mind mulling over a germ of an idea. Wesley's distrust had given him inspiration. He made contact with the Sathari and gave the assassins their instructions.  
  
"Drogyn knows too much about my involvement in Illyria's death and the presentation of the sacrifice. Cover it up. Kill him."  
  
-  
  
The days passed and Angel moved on with his plan. When Harmony buzzed through to say that Buffy was waiting to see him, he couldn't say he was surprised.  
  
"Buffy. What can I do for you?" He asked lounging back, looking for all the world like the corporate success he was.  
  
Buffy settled uncomfortably in the chair opposite the desk.  
  
"You know you said that I was vision-girl now?"  
  
"Yeah. How's that working out for you? Keeping you and the other slayers busy?"  
  
"What? No! What made you say...I mean you're the champion, I'd tell you."  
  
"So is this what you're here for? To give me an update?"  
  
"No. I'm here to say...we think he' still alive."  
  
Angel froze.  
  
"You had a vision?"  
  
"No. That's the point. None. Not one single mind-shattering message from the Powers. I mean, not even a 'hi, nice to have you on board' memo."  
  
Angel appeared to relax again.  
  
"He's gone, Buffy."  
  
"Willow said that this seer power doesn't just poof out of existence. He chose me, it should have come to me, it didn't. Ergo he's out there somewhere."  
  
"Ergo?"  
  
"Yes, ergo. Giles said it, so it must be right and stop being all distractive vamp, because my new improved word power? So not the issue."  
  
"Ok. To be frank." He gave a derisory little laugh and shook his head at her idiocy, "you're deluding yourself. I know how much you want it to be true but its not. If he were still here I would know. It's demonic, supernatural, it's in the blood. I would know."  
  
"So you're not going to help me to look for him?"  
  
"I don't know what to say, Buff. The only part of him left that I can sense is the piece of himself he gave to our home. At the risk of falling into a dead parrot sketch, he's gone. Dead. Deceased."  
  
"Are you making a joke? About his death?"  
  
"Why not, he probably would if he were here. Which he's not."  
  
Buffy looked hurt and Angel sighed.  
  
"It's for your own good, Buffy. We mourn and we go on."  
  
"Did you mourn? Really, did you even mourn? One tear? One sad thought?"  
  
Angel clamped down hard on emotions that were trying to break through. Instead he gave a grin and spread his arms expansively.  
  
"What can I say? Vampire. Not really a morning person."  
  
"Oh. Right. A pun. One day, Angel, you'll tell me exactly what's going on inside your head, because at the moment? I've no idea who I'm talking to."  
  
"Same as I ever was, Buff."  
  
"No. Really not." She turned and left his office a small crease between her brows.  
  
He sat back. He wanted to get back to the house and just be himself, but he was picking up momentum and the show must go on -  
  
Wesley and Fred were researching Boretz demons. Its victims had been found in an abandoned amusement park. Wesley was trying to concentrate but his mind kept wandering back to Angel's reaction to the latest deaths. "It's small stuff, Wes. A statistic. Don't sweat it."  
  
When had Angel started viewing people as statistics and death as small stuff?  
  
As he looked blankly at the page describing the Boretz the close set print began to fade before his eyes. A new message appeared, 'you're searching in the wrong place', this too faded and was replaced by a symbol. A circle with 8 spikes protruding from it. He was about to call to Fred but when he looked down the book, once again, revealed nothing more than mundane Boretz facts.  
  
Wes tore off a sheet of paper and quickly made a drawing of the symbol whilst it was still fresh in his mind. He spotted Gunn passing and waved him in.  
  
"Are either of you familiar with this?" He asked showing them his sketch.  
  
They both shook their heads.  
  
"No." Fred replied. "Why? Do you think it's important?"  
  
Wesley felt strangely reluctant to talk about it. The message had appeared in such an enigmatic way, as though trying to avoid detection.  
  
"I'm not sure. Possibly." He took the paper and pocketed it out of sight.  
  
Fred noticed that Gunn was looking a little distressed. "Charles? Is everything ok?"  
  
"Yes. Great. Except Angel has just given away a baby to be raised by the Fell Brethren for ritual sacrifice. I mean, am I missing something? Have we suddenly acquired a new motto? 'Babies R Us, your one stop shop for all your sacrificial needs?' How about a badge? 'Baby slaughter? Ask me how'." He threw himself into a chair and looked at them with troubled eyes waiting for answers.  
  
But they had none.  
  
Gunn looked bewildered and instead turned his attention to the task in hand. He noticed Wesley's book.  
  
"Is that the data on the Boretz-dude? What are we dealing with?"  
  
"A pungent, vicious demon with a poisonous bite. They blend in with transients and prey on them."  
  
"Charming. What did the Boss say?"  
  
"Angel was...busy. It'll be down to us to take it out."  
  
"Busy? What is it with him? I trust him, guys. But he's seriously starting to hack me off. He's behaving like..."  
  
"A power mad megalomaniac?" Lorne asked from the doorway. He wandered in obviously agitated.  
  
"He's cut loose six of my clients. I've been talking them down from ledges and out of pill bottles. Valium sales have trebled whilst everyone waits to hear who is next on his hit list."  
  
"Man. This is not good. It's not that he doesn't care for the little people, its that he doesn't even see them."  
  
"You're wrong." Wesley replied. "A man like Angel doesn't suddenly stop caring."  
  
"Really? You've got to look at the evidence, Wes. I think Spike's death has twisted him."  
  
"You're wrong. If he's behaving like this, there's a reason and the worse he behaves the more important it must be."  
  
"Alright. If that's the case we'll be there for him but I hope he let's us in on the secret soon because I can't take much more of this shit."  
  
"Nicely put. Angelcakes maybe sane but he's driving me demented." Lorne agreed and groaned as his mobile rang. "Excuse me..."  
  
He retreated from the room, "Darling, how wonderful... No...no. Everything is fine my little Poptart. Yes, I swear..."  
  
Gunn also retreated to his own office, leaving Wesley and Fred alone.  
  
"So, dinner tonight?" Fred asked.  
  
"Before or after our demon slaughter?"  
  
"Oh after. A spot of violence before dinner to work up an appetite." She snuggled into him slightly.  
  
Wesley smiled. "You sounded like him."  
  
"I know. I wanna remember. Remember all his little ways. We let him down so badly..."  
  
"Angel said some things are written."  
  
"Buffy thinks he's still alive, well you know, not alive exactly..."  
  
Wesley smiled. "Yes. Alive. He was the most alive person I'd ever met. Poor Buffy, it's been hard for her accept."  
  
He gave Fred a smile. "So do you want to take his favourite axe tonight?"  
  
"I'm thinking no." She grinned. "Not so useful if you can't lift the dang thing off the ground."  
  
-  
  
"Have you got something of his?" Willow asked.  
  
"Yeah, I looked down in his old room." Buffy produced a T-shirt, a crumpled pack of cigarettes and a book of matches.  
  
"Ok. The T-shirt is probably the most personal item, we'll use that."  
  
She spread a map of the world in front of them.  
  
"I've used this spell before to locate demons, this time I just use Spike's possessions to attune it to him, then we sprinkle the dust on the map and a light appears wherever he is." She gave Buffy a reassuring smile. "If he's out there we'll find him."  
  
They took a jar each and began to cast the dust evenly over the map, until it was completely covered.  
  
"It's not working."  
  
Willow looked at her in concern.  
  
"Buffy, I'm sorry. It is working. Angel was right, he's really gone."  
  
"Oh." Buffy turned away. "I was so sure."  
  
"I know you were, sweetie."  
  
"Can't you bring him back?" She pleaded.  
  
"Buffy! I can't. I don't dare go there again."  
  
"I know, I didn't mean it really. Can you do a search for him? I mean, I was in heaven but supposing he's trapped somewhere...not so pleasant."  
  
"And if he is, what can we do?"  
  
"Go to hell and get him out?"  
  
"I don't think it works like that. It's not like springing someone from jail."  
  
"Will you look? I need to know...even if there's nothing I can do about it."  
  
"Give me some time, I'll look into it."  
  
-  
  
Gunn pointed at the ground to what appeared to be a trail of fresh blood.  
  
"Right. He must be close." A noise made them all jump and a man emerged from the darkness.  
  
"Drogyn?" Gunn asked in surprise.  
  
He was beaten and bloodied.  
  
"I was looking for you." Drogyn replied. "But I was attacked by a Boretz. Its dead now."  
  
"Man. Was it the Boretz that did this to you?"  
  
Drogyn shook his head.  
  
"Then who?"  
  
Drogyn looked at them sadly. "It was Angel."  
  
They stared back in disbelief.  
  
"I was attacked by Sathri assassins. When I overpowered them and demanded to know who had sent them they told me it was Angel."  
  
"They lied." Gunn replied.  
  
"Believe me no one lies when they're at the mercy of my wrath. They said there was a secret to do with his involvement in Illyria's escape. Before he died the assassin said something about a sacrifice, someone trusted and dear. I was too close to finding the truth, therefore he ordered my death. "  
  
"Then you lie." Wesley said coldly.  
  
"Wes. This is Drogyn. Battlebrand. He can't lie." Gunn said.  
  
"Battlebrand? I've heard of you. Demonbane. Truthsayer. Given eternal youth a thousand years ago?"  
  
Drogyn nodded.  
  
"And you believe that Angel is implicated in Spike's death?"  
  
Fred was resolute. "I don't believe he'd hurt Spike."  
  
"I'm sorry, this is painful for you, but I think it was more random than that. He didn't specify who the sacrifice was, but believed it would be one of you." Drogyn replied.  
  
They were silent until Wesley finally said, "We need to find some answers."  
  
-  
  
Angel arrived for his morning session with the slayers. Entering the training room he noticed there was an unusual air of hushed expectancy. He ignored it, he wasn't interested. He was here for a single purpose, to fulfil a commitment that Spike had arranged for him. They weren't his slayers; he had no affection for them, no emotional ties. He wasn't even sure if he could recall their names. Spike depended on him to look after them, tutor them, offer some protection, so that's what he was doing.  
  
"Into the first position." He ordered as they began their Tai Chi warm up. The girls were hesitant and Angel realised, however much he wished to avoid personal contact he was going to have to deal with it. It looked like the big girl, Erica, had been nominated as spokesperson; she was the one who stepped forward from the group. She was nervous and so naturally became somewhat aggressive to compensate.  
  
"Angel. Myself and the slayers want to talk to you before we go any further."  
  
"There's nothing to talk about. I teach. I go."  
  
"We know. We understand you want nothing from us, but in the end we're on the same side."  
  
"Are we? You know nothing about me." Angel pointed out.  
  
"No. But we're not stupid. We hear talk."  
  
"Ah. I see. You've heard the rumours and you no longer trust me?" He should have expected this.  
  
"No. That's not it. We just wanted you to know; when you need us we'll be here, no matter how anyone else feels."  
  
"You're putting yourselves in my hands! What is this stupidity?"  
  
They began to fidget slightly but Erica remained unmoved.  
  
"Spike claimed us. It meant something, to us and to him. We don't know you, but we knew him, and he had absolute faith in you. Yes, we're putting ourselves in your hands. We don't want you to claim us. The eight of us here, we'll always be his. Instead we're claiming you." She looked at the others and one or two nodded at her in encouragement.  
  
"We hear the rumours; you arranged Spike's death for your own advancement." She shook her head in disbelief and continued, "When you need us, we'll be there to step in and pull you from danger, Angel. Just as he always did for us."  
  
Angel was stunned. Could they really be that naïve? He decided to allow Angelus to show through, perhaps they would be more cautious as to whom they trusted in future. They all noticed the change in stance and immediately their muscles tensed and their posture denoted battle readiness.  
  
He grinned at them, a powerful predator surveying his prey.  
  
"And what makes you think I didn't kill my idiot childe?" He asked his eyes gleaming wickedly.  
  
"You defended him when he became helpless, defended him, even from us." She looked him in the eyes. "One day, Angelus, we will be forced to overpower you, defeat you. But know this; we respect you for protecting him, our leader, and will never doubt your allegiance to him or your love for him."  
  
Angelus faded away under the onslaught of words and emotions and Angel looked at the floor, needing time to collect himself.  
  
"We don't want words from you or any sort of answer. We were just letting you know how things stand."  
  
She nodded at the others and they took their places.  
  
When Angel next looked up they were all holding position one.  
  
Angel felt an unexpected surge of affection. Spike was right, they were a counterbalance to Wolfram and Hart. He would be proud of them.  
  
-  
  
They stood on the other side of the brick wall that marked the boundary of Angel's property.  
  
"Why are we doing this, Buffy? How will it affect anything?"  
  
"If he's watching us from somewhere Willow, I need him to know we care enough to make the attempt. I worry about where he is now, he deserves another chance."  
  
"If he is in hell, what have we achieved?"  
  
"Somehow he'll know we were concerned enough, loved him enough, to do this."  
  
Willow was reluctant but she understood love and loss and the burning need to do something. Anything.  
  
"Ok Buffy. We'll do it."  
  
Buffy leapt on to the high wall surrounding Angel's home. Willow whispered something and suddenly she was there next to her friend. They lowered themselves to the other side.  
  
Willow stopped; the atmosphere was oppressive.  
  
"Oh. How awful."  
  
Buffy immediately tensed and glanced around. "What is it?"  
  
"You know you accused Angel of not mourning? Think he was doing it in private."  
  
"Are you sure? Because he was doing a good impression of the not caring."  
  
"Can't you feel it?" Willow's eyes were wet as she turned to the slayer. "I can hardly move. This place is choked with sorrow."  
  
"What game is he playing? Why is he trying to convince us all he doesn't give a damn?"  
  
"I don't know. But let's hurry up. I wish we could do this someplace else. Being here, it's intrusive."  
  
"Ok. What next?"  
  
"This is the only place where we know Spike's essence currently exists. It calls to him, yearns towards him, wherever he is. I told them it was mutual ownership but it's more of an indestructible link. He'll always gravitate back here and the part that is here is constantly pulled towards him. His blood, his soul. Do you know how difficult it was to extract that tiny bit of spark from his corporeal form? His soul has now been bound to his body by such arcane magicks the binding is immutable."  
  
She pulled out a crystal. "I'll use this as a focus and meditate, try to separate his essence from Angel's and then let it pull me to wherever he is now."  
  
"What do you want me to do?"  
  
"You're going to be my anchor. If I look distressed or collapse, break the crystal. Bring me back."  
  
"Is it dangerous for you?"  
  
"I'm probably going to a hell dimension, Buffy. I've heard that it's no picnic. No little sandwiches and cups of juice, probably not even the ants that mess up the picnic."  
  
"Right, got it. Just be careful. Please."  
  
Willow nodded and sat down cross legged in the grass, placing the crystal in front of her and looking into it intently. It gradually elevated until it was eye-level with her. Then it started a slow spin, reflecting sunlight in flashing darts and rays, illuminating aspects of the garden in small flickers and quick glints of pure light.  
  
"Ok. You didn't tell me that would happen."  
  
Buffy had the feeling that it was searching for something. Perhaps seeking out that one piece of himself that Spike had left here. She tried to concentrate, wondering if there was enough of him here to make him recognisable as an entity. Her breathing evened out as she let herself relax and just feel. All that hit her was that feeling of sadness and grief. It clogged her throat, she was drowning in it and it took some effort to force herself back. Not why she was here. She had to stay alert and watch out for Willow.  
  
Willow still looked calm and focused but with an air of intense concentration. Buffy hoped she was doing the right thing. She knew that time could move differently in other dimensions, supposing Willow had already spent a month in hell before she could even show an expression of distress in this one? She was on tenterhooks, carefully watching her friend's face for any change in expression.  
  
Suddenly Willow gasped. Buffy threw herself at the crystal and crushed it against a stone.  
  
"Willow? Are you alright?"  
  
She had dropped back in exhaustion.  
  
"I'm sorry Wills...I should never have asked you..."  
  
Willow slowly sat back up and there was such an expression of shock in her eyes that Buffy was almost too terrified to ask.  
  
"Where were you? Its ok Willow, I won't do anything stupid. Just tell me...I need to know...what hell dimension is he in?"  
  
Willow's face was drawn into a mask of confusion.  
  
"London." She replied.  
  
"London! We're searching through hell for him, whilst he's decided to play tourist, take in a show, a bit of shopping? I'm going to drag him back by the roots of his stupid blonde hair."  
  
Willow just looked puzzled.  
  
"How can this be?" Buffy asked. "We've searched our world before and he wasn't here. I mean, London is part of this world, right?"  
  
"I don't understand. I swear that spell with the map worked, he just wasn't there and don't forget Angel believes he's dead. The grief here can't be faked."  
  
Buffy agreed and shivered as she once again sensed the despondency.  
  
"How good was this soul-to-soul search and find thingy you did?"  
  
"It seemed accurate but how can both answers be right? How can he be here and not here?"  
  
"That's what I want to find out. Did it pinpoint a location? Could we travel to London and find the source of this Spike essence?"  
  
"I think so. It's fairly precise, particularly when he's so close."  
  
"Close?" Buffy queried.  
  
"I mean he's in this dimension. Which you know, a big plus when trying to locate someone."  
  
"I want to find him."  
  
"If we told Angel he might lend us a jet."  
  
"The jet sounds good but I don't think we should tell him. If he's pretending to be unfazed by Spike's death then it must be important. He's using it as a piece in some bigger game. That means we need to keep this secret. If it becomes common knowledge that he's still alive then it might throw the whole game for Angel."  
  
Willow thought about it.  
  
"You know he's deliberately trying to turn people against him. I think he's pretending to be evil and the more beleaguered he is the more believable it becomes. Supposing that's how he's using Spike's death, to make the Senior Partners believe he's one of them?"  
  
"It would be a good strategy. Make them believe he's evil and infiltrate the inner circle to bring them down. And if they're watching us then he needs us to have believable reactions, which is why he's deliberately creating hostilities. We need to help him, support him whatever he's doing. We'll have to pretend that we believe he's all with the evilness. Willow are we safe talking here? I know you said it was created to protect Angel and Spike but will anyone be able to hear us."  
  
"No. This place has its own identity and acertain intelligence in its protectiveness. Nothing that would be harmful to either of them will happen here."  
  
"So we don't talk of this outside these boundaries, unless you've warded us somehow. Now we go to London. So how can we be hostile to Angel and still wangle a jet out of him?"  
  
"How about we miss Angel out altogether and go through Wesley? I mean we won't tell him anything, just fabricate some emergency."  
  
"Sounds like a plan. Daphne and Velma investigating the mystery of the appearance of the disappearing vampire."  
  
She pressed the button that operated the automatic gate.  
  
"Give scriptwriting a miss, Buff. I mean, descriptive," Willow said trying to point out the positive, "but lacking a certain snappiness. It's buzz- less."  
  
"Does it always have to be about buzz and sound bytes? Perhaps the world is ready for buzzlessness?"  
  
"Insomniacs maybe."  
  
"When I made my slayer-in-command speeches last year I never went for the buzz. More the 'you're going to die horribly' shock value...you're going to have a go at my oratory skills next, aren't you?"  
  
Willow nodded seriously  
  
Buffy attempted to redeem herself. "I have made some killer puns but my audience does tend to die on me..."  
  
The two girls retreated from the garden engaged in artless conversation, guaranteed to confuse any potential listener not Sunnydale born and bred.  
  
-  
  
Angel was getting worse. He cut them dead because he was meeting a corrupt senator. Virgin's blood was being found for the senator's bodyguard, whilst Angel agreed to a campaign to make a paedophile from a relatively honest opponent. Gunn was despairing. Wesley was beginning to once again question where his loyalties should lie and how far they could be stretched.  
  
They finally cornered him in his office. They listened to his speech, it was a good speech. They were in business and they were aiming to win. Angel had shaken his head at their incomprehension. It was about power. The only way he could really affect anything was by amassing global power and sometimes they had to overlook the small stuff for the greater aim Sacrifices needed to be made. Sacrifices like Spike? Gunn had asked. Angel replied that he'd loved Spike. But they were all intensely aware that it didn't answer the question.  
  
Wesley was disheartened and returned to his apartment where Drogyn was being held. His heart began to thump in panic. He could see ahead of him that his apartment door was flung open. Wesley raced towards it and saw Lorne just coming around, rubbing at a painful looking lump on his head. Drogyn was gone. As Wesley bandaged his head, Lorne explained how they'd been attacked by masked men. That was all he'd seen before they'd knocked him out. Wesley sighed and sent him home to rest. He made himself some tea - it always seemed to help him to think more clearly.  
  
There was a knock at his door. Wesley didn't often get visitors and he was tempted to ignore it but checked through the peephole anyway. To find Buffy and Willow standing outside; a formidable witch and a powerful slayer. An intimidating combination. He decided maybe he ought to open the door.  
  
"Hello. This is a surprise. Is everything alright?"  
  
"Yes. We called in at you office and Harmony said you were here...I hope you don't mind?" Willow asked.  
  
"No, of course not."  
  
Both girls noticed how tired he looked. They hadn't considered the effect that Angel's apparent betrayal would have on his people.  
  
"Wesley? Are you alright?"  
  
He was in quandary and so tired that the simple enquiry opened a floodgate within him. He found himself telling them everything that had happened.  
  
When he finished he admitted that he didn't quite know what he should do next.  
  
"Maybe we could be of help. Supposing we returned to England to find out if there are any secrets hiding in the Deeper Well?"  
  
"Really? No, it's not fair to ask you. Fred and myself..."  
  
"No disrespect, Wes. But if there is something nasty hiding there it may have something protecting it. I may not be the chosen one anymore but I'm still a slayer and Willow is a kick-ass witch..."  
  
"Yes, I see your point. Can I at least arrange the Company jet for you?"  
  
"Well...we wouldn't want to put you to any bother."  
  
"It's the least I can do. But I'm sorry I've been incredibly rude. What did you wish to discuss?"  
  
"Angel." Buffy quickly said. "We've been noticing his strange behaviour and wanted your view, which, you know, you've given us and...that was all we wanted. Wasn't it Willow?"  
  
"Oh. Yes. Sure." She agreed vigorously nodding her head, which aroused even Wesley's suspicions.  
  
"So what are your conclusions?" he asked.  
  
"Ok." Buffy replied. "We didn't really want to discuss this yet but we think Angel is into something big." She looked towards Willow to help her out.  
  
"Yes. Something big and your talk about his attitude to power confirms our suspicions." Angel wanted distrust so they'd help build it for him. "We think he's trying to gain favour with the Senior Partners. We believe Drogyn was correct in his assumptions, Angel was involved in Illyria's escape, leading to Spike's death or if not Spike then one of you."  
  
"He was playing Russian roulette with you. Spike lost."  
  
"Those were his words." Wesley said trying to hide his distress. "We were speaking of Spike and he said one of us was dead the moment Illyria was released. That Spike chose himself. God I can't believe it! Killing one of his trusted lieutenants - if that doesn't get him into The Senior Partner's elite club, then nothing will."  
  
"Exactly." Buffy replied.  
  
"We're not certain; I mean it's just a theory." Willow said.  
  
Wesley pulled his drawing of the symbol from his pocket.  
  
"I don't suppose either of you have come across this before?"  
  
Buffy shook her head.  
  
"No. Do you mind if I examine it?" Willow asked.  
  
Wesley handed it to her. She closed her eyes and passed her hand over it. The paper glowed blue, but the symbol turned a blazing red, it started to flicker and then produced flame, catching the surrounding paper and causing it to smoulder, until it finally caught alight. Willow opened her eyes and quickly dropped it.  
  
"What did you do?" Wesley asked.  
  
"It was just a simple reveal spell." Willow said also rather stunned by the reaction.  
  
"What did you see?" Buffy asked.  
  
Willow closed her eyes again, trying to establish and clarify exactly what she had seen.  
  
"I'm not sure but it was evil and it was pure power. I think it's a symbol of what Angel is looking for. Someone is trying to give us clues."  
  
"We need to get to the Well and try to find something conclusive."  
  
"I'll make arrangements for your journey. When can you leave?"  
  
"We're good, pretty much now." Buffy replied.  
  
"It will take half hour to have it fuelled and ready, if you need to grab any of your things, I'll get a car to take you."  
  
-  
  
Angel couldn't believe it. He'd succeeded. He came to a doorway, which was protected by a wall of vicious flames. He wrapped his coat around him and took a flying leap through the fire. Before him, three robed figures were beating a man who knelt on the ground, a rough cloth sack over his head.  
  
Angel stepped forward and raised the man to his feet, removing the sack that masked his features. Staring back at him was the bloodied and aging face of Drogyn the Eternally Young. He realised he was close to death.  
  
"Angel." He breathed. "Thank you."  
  
Angel vamped out and bit into the Battlebrand's neck. He drank deep of that innocent blood until the last rattling breath faded from the room.  
  
A robed, masked demon stretched out a red hand, glowing with a fiery symbol in its palm and pressed it to Angel's chest, leaving a brand on his perfect skin.  
  
"The circle entwined." The demon intoned  
  
"Embrace this worthy son." Came the response from others in the room.  
  
"The thorn draws blood." The demon chanted.  
  
"The thorn is the power, and the power is absolute." The others replied.  
  
There was ripple of applause.  
  
More robed figures began to emerge from the shadowy corners, throwing back their hoods and removing their garish masks as they warmly congratulated him and welcomed him to the Order of the Black Thorn.  
  
"That was impressive, Big Guy. You've created quite a stir. Everyone is here for your initiation, all wanting to meet the great Angelus." Angel recognised Izzy, his demonic squash partner.  
  
"It's Angel." He replied, carefully taking note of the revealed faces.  
  
The Senior Partners may be the source of evil but these, gathered here, were their power on earth. The Circle of Black Thorn. They were the cogs in the apocalyptic machine. He remembered Spike joking about it almost being apocalypse season and here they were the ones who kept the seasons in motion.  
  
Angel had a good memory for names and faces. As everyone was introduced he logged them away and made sure not one escaped.  
  
-  
  
Once again there was a car waiting for them when they landed. England was basking in warm spring sunshine.  
  
"Do we expect to find anything here?" Willow asked quietly.  
  
"Depends exactly what he's hiding."  
  
Willow immediately understood that Buffy's answer was for whoever might have them under surveillance. After all, they were in a Wolfram and Hart car. They both knew Angel was innocent, which meant, hopefully, no danger at the Well. She nodded her understanding.  
  
When they reached the tree, the entrance was now obvious to whosoever cared to look, blackened and charred around the edges. They entered together and Buffy shivered as she stood on the bridge where Spike had fallen.  
  
"I'm going to work from the ledge. I need to feel the contact with the earth for this search. Also? This bridge wigs me out."  
  
Buffy nodded and kept her vigil on the bridge. There were no visible signs of his struggle with Illyria; it was as though it had never happened. It seemed unfair. There should be a memory of his actions permeating the very air. Some eternal marker proclaiming here fell the hero. A generation, maybe two, who would remember? Then she thought of Angel, alone in his grief, deliberately alienating everyone who cared, as he tried to make Spike's death count. Who was the real hero? Was it easier to be the one to throw it away in one courageous feat or to be the one left to carry on, alone and friendless, caught in a never ceasing struggle? Both were heroic but one was damned sight harder.  
  
She should know, she'd done both and nearly lost herself in the challenge of the mundane, the everyday struggle.  
  
Willow interrupted her reverie.  
  
"The earth here has remained unchanged. There is the feel of Drogyn as he's moved amongst his charges. An echo of our first visit, recent violence and blood, which must be Drogyn and his would-be assassins, also..." She stopped.  
  
"You found something?"  
  
"No. Well, the only thing new and alien here are...his ashes."  
  
"Oh." There was a lump in her throat. "This journey has all been for nothing hasn't it?"  
  
Willow knew she was talking of their search for Spike.  
  
"Maybe. I don't know. Let's get away from here. We'll take some time out. I'm sure Wesley won't mind if we stay a day or two. We'll go to London, catch the sights?"  
  
Buffy sighed. "Ok, but don't get your hopes too high. I've been there before remember. It's just another city."  
  
-  
  
As soon as Lorne joined them Wesley gave them the update from Buffy and Willow.  
  
"They can't find any proof of Angel's involvement but that doesn't signify his innocence, perhaps it related to some piece of information personal to Drogyn. You have to remember that they've met on previous occasions."  
  
Gunn confirmed this view. "When we first met Drogyn at the Well it was plain that they knew each other."  
  
"If Angel is turning away from his mission and searching for power we should be trying to do something. He would hate what he's becoming." Fred said. "We have to help him - he'd do the same for us no matter what we'd done. He must be suffering so much. Spike always feared that this place would kill him by degrees."  
  
"Ok. Some action, now you're talking." Gunn said.  
  
-  
  
As Angel entered his office Gunn stepped out from his position behind the door and slammed it shut. Wesley, Fred and Lorne moved forward and he found himself surrounded by the gang, each of them bearing weapons.  
  
"What is this?" He demanded.  
  
"We know what you've been doing. Giving up the baby to the Fell Brethren, working for Senator Bitch, trying to take out Drogyn to cover up what you did to Spike. And for what? To get in bed with the powers that run things here?" Gunn said.  
  
"Oh. You finally figured it out." Angel replied twitching his brows up as though indicating that they were particularly slow.  
  
"What do you think you're doing, Angel." Fred asked.  
  
"I'm conducting business and if you don't like the way I do business then I guess you should leave. Before I kill you too."  
  
"Kill us?"  
  
"Just telling it like it is."  
  
"Then we have a problem." Wesley summed up.  
  
"I guess we do." Angel agreed pleasantly, simultaneously lunging for Wesley's shotgun. Gunn raised his sword but Angel managed to block the blow. Fred stepped back and released a bolt from her crossbow, causing Angel to drop the shotgun. Lorne raised his tranquilliser gun but Angel grabbed Fred around the neck, using her as a shield.  
  
"Fred. Pull this out of me."  
  
Fred carefully took hold of the wooden bolt and tugged it free.  
  
"Are we done?" He asked.  
  
Wesley and Gunn were momentarily stunned by this turn of events. Angel took the opportunity to produce something from his pocket. He released Fred and said.  
  
"Ok. We have six minutes."  
  
They looked at him in confusion.  
  
"I've put a glamour on us. To anyone watching it will look as though we're still fighting. I know you don't trust me but we don't have long so just let me explain. Right?"  
  
"Why should we believe you?"  
  
"Read any good books recently Wes?"  
  
"It was you gave me the message and showed me the symbol." Wesley realised.  
  
"Yes, it was. When I joined Wolfram and Hart, I was told about the Order of Black Thorn. They are the Senior Partners power in this world. I'd always thought it might be possible to infiltrate the group. The first thing I had to do, to prove I was serious, was sign away my right to Shanshu."  
  
"Angel, no!" Wesley protested.  
  
"It's ok Wes. I don't fight this fight for the reward at the end. I fight because I want to help. Convincing them that I was power hungry and evil was more difficult. When Spike died." Angel almost stumbled but he took a breath and continued. "When he died I decided to use it, make it worth something. I sent the assassins to Drogyn."  
  
"So that much was true." Gunn said.  
  
"Yes. I knew he would defeat them and they would confess to their reason for being there."  
  
"To supposedly cover up evidence of your involvement in Spike's death." Fred said thoughtfully.  
  
"It worked. Today I was initiated into the Order of Black Thorn. I have the name of every member and I'm going to destroy them all."  
  
They were astounded by the breadth of his scheme.  
  
"This isn't a long term solution or a war to end wars. It will inconvenience them for a short while but it won't take long before their places are filled and the machine is back in motion. All we have is one bright and shining moment to prove to them that they don't own the show here on earth, that there are people still willing to fight the battles even if the war is beyond them."  
  
"What will happen?" Fred asked. "After you've killed them, what will happen?"  
  
"I think they're going to release the hoards of hell to see me dead...so who's with me?"  
  
They were, once again, stunned into speechlessness.  
  
"Well...I guess." Fred replied raising her hand.  
  
"It's a suicide mission." Wesley said looking at Fred in anguish.  
  
"I know, Wes. A few weeks ago I thought I was going to die, some stupid pointless death. I want to live. You know how happy I've been recently." She smiled shyly at him. "But I'm being given a chance to choose the nature of my death and this is the mission I choose."  
  
Wesley slowly raised his hand, just because life without her would be no life at all.  
  
"I'm with you, Boss. Who wants to live forever anyway?" Gunn asked as he raised his hand.  
  
"I kind of did." Lorne replied, but finally raised his hand.  
  
-  
  
Buffy and Willow kept watch from their hotel room. The sun was going down and nightfall approaching.  
  
"Are you sure this was the place?" Buffy asked as she looked down on the quiet street.  
  
"This is it, I'm certain."  
  
"I've got to say, slayer senses not exactly tingling to the vampire vibe."  
  
"Maybe I was wrong but honestly, I don't think so. It was so strong and definite."  
  
Buffy let Willow catch up on her sleep, whilst she watched the road beneath, examining everyone as they slipped between brightly lit pools of light, beamed from the overhead street lamps.  
  
At about 6.00 am Willow began to stir.  
  
"It's morning." Buffy said her voice flat with disappointment.  
  
"Oh Buffy. I'm sorry. What do you want to do? Spend another night here?"  
  
"I don't know, I guess. I'll order breakfast, I always think better on a full stomach. What would you like?"  
  
Willow stretched in the morning sun, it was another clear day.  
  
"Hmmm. I think I'd like...oh my goddess, Spike!"  
  
Buffy rushed to the window.  
  
It was Spike as she'd never seen him before. Illuminated by the cool light of the rising sun.  
  
"How? It's daylight!"  
  
"Willow...he's human." Her voice was coloured with wonderment.  
  
"That's why my first spell didn't find him, it was a version of the demon finding spell."  
  
"And Angel said he'd know if Spike was alive, he said it was demonic, sire and childe...but there's no longer a demon."  
  
They watched and suddenly Spike crumpled to the ground, clutching his head in an all too familiar way.  
  
"He's still having visions. He's human, Buffy. They'll kill him."  
  
Buffy flung on her clothes.  
  
"We've been sent here for a reason. Let's go." -  
  
Wesley had searched through the books for a version of the glamour that Angel had used. He'd finally found something that he thought would suffice. Now here he was inside the slayer house with Giles and Andrew. He activated the glamour.  
  
"Giles. We need you to gather the slayers here as quickly as possible. All hell is about to break loose."  
  
"Another apocalypse?" He too had noticed they seemed to happen this time of year.  
  
"More than that. It's the system behind the apocalypse. I've cast a glamour, we have a short time for you to hear my story make a decision and make any necessary calls before all our actions become transparent again."  
  
"We understand. Please continue."  
  
They listened to his story.  
  
"So that explains his behaviour."  
  
Giles considered. They needed to make an immediate decision, one that he wouldn't normally make without consulting Buffy and Willow. In the end Andrew answered.  
  
"Do we have a choice?" Andrew asked fearfully. "Hell is going to be calling at our city. We need to prepare for it."  
  
Giles nodded, he was right there was no choice to this.  
  
"I'll make the calls now. We'll gather the girls at Angel's. It's the only place with enough space for them all."  
  
"Thank you, Giles." Wesley's gratitude was profuse. Some of them might actually get out of this alive.  
  
-  
  
Angel arrived for his training session but the slayers were in a chatty informal mood.  
  
"You don't really know us yet, so we've decided to have a party. A sort of getting to know you party."  
  
Angel looked at them in horror.  
  
"Yeah. Sounds great and you know if I'm not busy..."  
  
"That's excellent. Your house tonight. We'll bring our own food and drink."  
  
"My house! Of course, I'd love to but not really equipped for guests yet."  
  
"Its ok, we understand."  
  
Angel breathed a sigh of relief.  
  
"We don't care about the state of the house. So we'll see you about eight?"  
  
Angel was sure he said no but somehow they were all still arriving at his house this evening. He went to find Giles to complain.  
  
"Oh really Angel. Don't be such a baby. Personally, I'm looking forward to it."  
  
"Not you too." He said shaking his head in disappointment.  
  
"It will be just what you need, you'll see. Be sure to invite the rest of your team."  
  
"I don't think they'll feel like partying." Angel replied morosely.  
  
"Ask them, they might surprise you."  
  
-  
  
When his team responded enthusiastically to the party he finally guessed that it had less to do with partying and more to do with the privacy his house offered. It looked like he had allies but he'd have to wait for tonight to find out the details. He told the gang to take the day off and enjoy it as if it were their last. He watched Fred take Wes by the hand and lead him away.  
  
Angel made a call and met his son for coffee.  
  
"So is the world ending?" Connor asked.  
  
"Sorry?"  
  
"I'm having coffee with my Dad. The world must be ending."  
  
"You know?"  
  
"That you're my father? Yes I know. And I know what you did for me. All those memories feel unreal, they have a nightmarish quality. This is the life you gave me. I'm sitting exams and going to college."  
  
Angel felt tears pricking his eyes as they had their first normal conversation since...ever.  
  
He watched his son leave, a small satisfied smile playing around his mouth. There was one thing left to do in his last day. He went back to the house to summon up the imaginary image of his childe and spend the last few hours of this life with him.  
  
He wandered through the rooms just as they had on that first day when Spike had brought him here, so full of plans for the future. The training room was still a ballroom. The house was unfurnished and empty but at the same time it filled him. He put on the CD that Spike had chosen as a gift and the first song echoed through the house.  
  
'I will go down with this 'ship, I won't put my hands up and surrender...'  
  
Spike had been wrong. This first track was about them. Not Buffy. Through one hundred years of estrangement, through death and Angel still couldn't let go.  
  
He looked out across the darkening grounds and imagined Spike coming towards him.  
  
"Wherever you are, I'll be with you soon childe."  
  
He heard a door creak and scented the air. A human intruder. Familiar but he couldn't quite place it.  
  
He moved to the top of the stairs and looked down on a human male.  
  
"What are you doing in my house?"  
  
The man raised his head and his blue eyes pierced Angel to the soul.  
  
"I'm sorry. These two bints more or less kidnapped me. They said this is where I needed to be. Do you think maybe they were lunatics?"  
  
"Spike?"  
  
"Yeah. They kept calling me that. Name's Will."  
  
-  
  
Gunn was back in his old neighbourhood, helping Annie load the van with furniture.  
  
"So how are things going?"  
  
"Not bad, got some decent donations recently so we're opening a new shelter."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Uh huh. It's going pretty good, even got trained psychiatric help; you know how they are here. The runaways, the crack addicts, the abuse victims always more problems than the surface ones."  
  
"Supposing I said none of what you do helps? That it's all in the hands of a few powerful corrupt beings."  
  
"I'd say, let's get this furniture moved and try to help the next person who needs it."  
  
Gunn felt reassured. He fought the big battle so that people like Annie had a chance to fight the everyday evils.  
  
"So do you still get many vamps?" He asked.  
  
-  
  
Angel sat on the top stair.  
  
"Are you real? Yes, of course you are, I can hear the blood rushing around your veins. You don't know who I am?"  
  
The man cocked his head to one side in such a familiar gesture.  
  
"No. I've never met you." He hesitated and then said quietly, "But I do know you."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"I have fits, where I see things, normally violent and gruesome but I have a reoccurring one and you're in it. Those girls told me they were visions not fits."  
  
"What do you see?"  
  
"I see me. But not as I am now. More powerful and certain. You turn to me and smile and say, welcome home, Spike. Which I always found odd because my name is William."  
  
He dropped his eyes obviously confused and embarrassed by what he'd said.  
  
"Ironic. It all began with you losing your memories and here we are again. Full circle."  
  
"I have my memories." He protested.  
  
"Really? Tell me, where are you now?"  
  
"L.A."  
  
"No."  
  
"Your house?"  
  
"Just tell me what's in your heart. Where are you?"  
  
William looked around and breathed deep.  
  
"I'm home." He replied.  
  
"You're home. And what am I supposed to do with you now, William?"  
  
"Nothing. I've come here to die."  
  
-  
  
Lorne went down the steps into Caritas. He'd had power at Wolfram and Hart. He'd had famous names hanging on to his every word. Celebrities waiting on the line for a few words with him. But it meant nothing. This is where he'd been happiest. Listening to the hearts and souls of everyday demons.  
  
He went to the bar and ordered a Sea Breeze mixed to perfection. It was daytime and the bar was virtually empty. He picked up his drink and moved to the microphone and thought about the world he'd found himself in. A violent world, with no place for someone so innately peaceful as himself.  
  
He began to sing.  
  
'If I ruled the world, Every day would be the first day of spring, Every heart would have a new song to sing, And we'd sing of the joy every morning would bring...'  
  
-  
  
"What?"  
  
"The fits, I mean visions, are getting worse. The doctors just up my painkiller prescription, there's nothing else they can do. There's no guarantee that I'll survive the next one."  
  
Angel sat back to process everything he'd heard and seen. Spike had won Shanshu and it was nothing but a hollow sham. Some bloody cosmic joke. He could have howled with fury. Less than three weeks. That was all Spike had been given of genuine human life, the rest was all false memory and illusions.  
  
"Do you know what that reoccurring vision meant? It meant that I turn you back into a monster."  
  
"Is that what you are?" William asked. It was reminiscent of his first memory loss when he struggled to understand this world he found himself in.  
  
"Yes. As a human you can be redeemed. I'm a vampire, a monster, I can't."  
  
"So I've come here to die. It's as I thought."  
  
Angel rose and walked down the stairs towards him. He couldn't resist reaching out to touch his warm, sun-burnished skin.  
  
"Do you like being human? Do you enjoy walking in the sun?"  
  
"It's all I know. I have nothing to compare it to." William answered as he watched cold white fingers trail up his arm.  
  
"I had the choice and I chose this." He put a hand to William's neck to feel the pulse of blood through his veins.  
  
"I'm sorry. But in my other life, were we intimate?"  
  
"Of course. We were sire and childe...oh you mean...no, we were never...intimate...well just that one time..." Angel trailed off in embarrassment. "It's just that I've never seen you like this. Pink and glowing, full of warm human blood."  
  
"Bloody hell. You're really going to drink my blood aren't you?"  
  
"You're safe. I've been on a strict diet for the last hundred years. Well, one or two slip ups, but you're safe."  
  
"Right. Oh...uh...vampire-person...?"  
  
"Angel." He supplied.  
  
"Angel. Vision."  
  
Angel grabbed him as he fell. There was blood streaming from his nose and his eyes were rolled back. This was far worse than anything he'd seen with Cordelia. He felt something on his face and wiped at it. Blood. He'd now smeared it across his cheek and on to his mouth. A taste of it passed between his lips and suddenly the world folded away as he was drawn in to William's vision.  
  
-  
  
Fred led Wesley to her apartment. He gently kissed her and she closed her eyes. He kissed the lids of her eyes, her cheek and followed the line of her jaw to the pulse in her neck. She moaned softly as she felt his stubble brush her tender skin, sensitising it to every touch.  
  
She opened her eyes and gazed at this proud and tender man. She gently traced the contours of his face, as she looked into his startling, penetrating eyes.  
  
"My God. Winifred Burkle you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen." He whispered his voice tinged with awe just to be in her presence.  
  
"I love you so much, Wesley. Why did we wait this long. We could have had all this time..."  
  
"There has always been one crisis, swiftly followed by another." He smiled at her and then his face turned serious as his eyes dilated almost to black. "But that's no excuse. I've been a fool, my love, my Fred."  
  
His kisses became rawer and hungrier. Fred opened her mouth to them devouring all that he could give and then repaying them with a ferocious passion as she felt his body hardening and responding to her. She moved a hand under his shirt to touch his smooth skin and feel the flex of hard muscle as her curious fingers moved over his body.  
  
"Need you, Wes." She whispered.  
  
"You have me, Sweetheart."  
  
-  
  
It was more than a vision. Angel blinked in the bright light as he found himself looking towards the representatives of the Powers That Be. William was standing before them, his mouth agape in wonder.  
  
"We have summoned you before us." The male aspect announced.  
  
"We give you a choice." The female intoned.  
  
"Right. Yeah. I mean...a choice?"  
  
"We can remove your visions and let you live out a normal span, in peace and contentment."  
  
"Or we can let the Champion claim you again. You will have a life of violence and death, as you continue to fight evil at his side."  
  
"Is this a trick question? Because so far, not that much of a choice."  
  
"No tricks."  
  
"I can't remember how it was, how can I make a choice if I don't fully understand the options?"  
  
"You speak truly. We will show you what you were."  
  
Spike closed his eyes and began to convulse on the floor before them. Angel was about to rush to him but the female caught him in her gaze and held him there.  
  
"No." She commanded.  
  
When William next opened his eyes there were tears falling from them.  
  
"I did all that? I killed all those people?" His revulsion hung in the air.  
  
"You did. You have also saved people. We await your choice."  
  
"Not even two years. I've been changed less than two years. How does that make up for the 120 years? Why do I deserve this offer of a new life?"  
  
Neither answered.  
  
"The choice is yours." the male told him, clearly becoming impatient.  
  
"There is no choice." William said sadly. "The human life is nothing is it? A temporary shield from the horrors I've committed."  
  
He looked at them. "I make my choice. I choose atonement. I choose violence and death. I will become the monster I know myself to be."  
  
"The Champion may approach."  
  
Angel found himself released from whatever force had held him.  
  
"Will you claim this man as childe once more?"  
  
"Is this really your choice?" He asked.  
  
William nodded.  
  
"Will he keep his soul?" Angel asked.  
  
"The soul is part of his body. It cannot be removed."  
  
"I claim this man as my childe. Before the Powers That Be, I claim him."  
  
"Then take him."  
  
Angel let his vampiric features emerge. William stared into his golden eyes.  
  
"I won't hurt you, boy." He promised.  
  
"Just do it." William whispered fiercely.  
  
Angel inhaled for the last time the scent of his humanity, enjoyed the sound of the rushing blood. He let his sensitive fangs rest on the pulse in his neck, and felt the steady thump reverberate through his teeth until his own body sang to it. Then he pierced the skin and allowed the warm, coppery blood to flow and enter his mouth in pulsing waves that kept time with the rhythm of his heart. It was exhilarating. Spike would be his natural childe. Not claimed or adopted. His.  
  
As he drank he saw the life that William had been given tumble away, the false memories had no depth and gradually older more permanent memories began to travel with the blood, as this man slowly transformed into Spike. Angel caught the eye of the female who was watching them closely and seemed to hear her voice in his head.  
  
"This is always what Shanshu was to be. Not the end but the means. This is your reward, Champion. You will have a companion, a soul mate to the end of days." Angel saw in his minds eye a path stretching out in front of them it was dark and twisted but he and Spike walked it together and somewhere in the far distance the path disappeared into perfect shining white light.  
  
"This was the purpose of Shanshu. It was the doorway to a road and the road leads to completion; to the flawless heart of the universe. You had already placed your feet on that road and now your childe will stand shoulder-to-shoulder with you as he takes his first steps along the road to the perfect light."  
  
"I thought I'd signed away all hope."  
  
She smiled. "Haven't you learnt there is always hope? We have given you and your childe a gift. The spell the witch cast on your home has been augmented. You and those you claim as yours may find protection there. We will see you again, Champion."  
  
She faded from his mind and from his sight.  
  
He found himself lying at the foot of the stairs, holding a dying Spike. His heartbeat had slowed to almost nothing. Angel hastily bit into his wrist and placed it to Spike's mouth, allowing him to take as much of his powerful blood as he could manage. Vampires normally made their childer weak. He had no intention of doing this to him. Some minutes later Spike's mouth finally slipped away from his wrist as the last flicker of life left his body.  
  
Angel carefully carried the body down stairs and left it in the dark interior of the basement. He returned upstairs and fed well. Spike had nearly drained him and he would need his strength for tonight.  
  
At eight o'clock everyone descended on him.  
  
Willow and Buffy were the first to corner him. But he wanted to keep Spike's return as a surprise. He told them the truth as far as it went.  
  
"Thank you for bringing him home. He's safe but can we talk about this later? Then you can tell me everything."  
  
"Ok. We've trusted you a lot recently. Guess we're not about to stop now." Buffy agreed.  
  
Giles had already managed to fly in about sixty slayers. He reported that more were flying in through the night.  
  
"I thought after you'd dealt with the Black Thorn members, we'd be needing help in the following fight."  
  
"I hate to do this to them. They're so young."  
  
"They're trained warriors, Angel. Every one of them." Buffy replied. "We exist for moments like this."  
  
"When are you going to carry out your plan?"  
  
"It's begun." Angel replied. "But I need some help."  
  
He allotted the tasks.  
  
-  
  
Fred and Wes killed two of the baby's servants and clothed themselves in the robes of the Fell Brethren. They took the baby, whilst Angel made a move on the Grand Potentate.  
  
-  
  
Willow and Buffy entered the house of Cyvus Vail. Willow's magic veiled his guards' eyes so they noticed nothing. They entered his room and Willow threw a fireball at him. Vail laughed. "You think you have the power to challenge me, Witch." He asked, casually catching her fireball and throwing it back at her. He turned to Buffy. "And what do you plan to do, little girl." He sneered.  
  
Buffy threw a powerful punch that caved in one side of his delicate skull.  
  
"Pretty much that." She replied.  
  
-  
  
Izzy and three other members stepped out of their car. To find themselves surrounded by eight armed slayers. Izzy was dead before he could even blink.  
  
-  
  
Gunn moved in on the vampires that surrounded the senator. This was his forte, this was his life. It was back to his roots. He approached the one he recognised, the one that had demanded virgin's blood and with a smile and a quick movement thrust a stake through his heart. This left Lorne to take care of the Senator, a creature from hell that now possessed this too human body. He took out a gun and shot it twice in the head.  
  
-  
  
The Grand Archduke Sebassis called for a drink. His puny slave came forward and drew him one from the tap on his own vein. Sebassis took a mouthful and closed his eyes to savour it. He finished the whole glass and then began to cough and choke. Someone had poisoned his slave and spiked his drink.  
  
-  
  
Angel, Wesley and Fred were first back. Angel waited in agitation. Fred tended an injured Wesley. When others eventually arrived, Gunn was injured and Fred cleaned and stitched his wounds too. Lorne didn't return.  
  
"He killed the Senator and then threw away the gun. He said he'd done his part and you couldn't ask for more." Gunn explained.  
  
"He did well." Angel replied "He's an empath, he was never meant to be a warrior."  
  
Giles and Andrew had been travelling to and fro from the airport and there were now well over one hundred slayers gathered.  
  
"What do we do now?" Giles asked.  
  
"Now I talk." Angel said.  
  
He called for everyone's attention.  
  
"Very soon we will be in a battle with demons from various hell dimensions. You may not recognise the species. If we get the chance Giles, Wesley or myself will try to give you advice but the general rule is decapitation will kill most demons. They will not be organised, they will be a disparate group and from what I've seen of hell, all with their own grudges and hostilities. If fighting breaks out between them, let them kill each other and move on."  
  
"The fight will be here on our own ground. We chose this place for a reason, everything within the boundaries is aligned to me, Spike and the people we claim. You slayers all belonged to Spike, you have our protection. Wesley, Gunn, Fred, Lorne you're mine, you may not have realised it but I'd already claimed you. Giles and Andrew..."  
  
"Spike saved my life at the expense of his own, does that count as a claim?"  
  
Angel nodded.  
  
"I'm not sure if Spike claimed me or not. We were friends." Giles said.  
  
"It's not in a vampire's nature to have human friends. You're his. Buffy..."  
  
"Ok. I know. I've been claimed by you both. Double the protection I guess?"  
  
"Willow..."  
  
"It's ok Angel. I belong to no one and can protect myself." Angel nodded his agreement.  
  
"We've never truly put this protection to the test. I can't be sure what form it will take. Just don't be shocked by anything that happens. It's there to help you."  
  
"How long will we have to wait?"  
  
"They'll just now have realised what has happened. They'll regroup and the order to attack will be sent out. We have minutes maybe an hour at the most. So everyone gather up your weapons. This is our moment. Tonight we brought the fight to their very doors. Now they bring it to ours."  
  
"See?" Willow whispered. "Nice speech. Short, to the point, punchy ending."  
  
Portals began to open and the legions from hell poured forth.  
  
They were prepared and gathered to meet this force.  
  
"Uh, plan of attack?" Wes asked nervously.  
  
"Kill every demon you can."  
  
They charged forward and the battle began in earnest.  
  
"Wes, have you noticed what's happening?" Fred called as she fired her shotgun again.  
  
Wesley had been too involved in his own battles to really notice much around him, other than keeping an eye on Fred.  
  
"The land abhors them. The trees are sending out roots and binding their feet. Others are being stabbed through by branches. Creepers are growing up and entangling them. I think the very air is weighing heavy on them, slowing them down."  
  
Wesley looked around. She was right. Nature itself was turning against the demons.  
  
"It's helping but there's too many of them, Fred. We'll tire before they run out of legions. There must be hundreds maybe a thousand of them.  
  
Buffy plucked a post from the ground and used it to stab the large demon charging towards her. The speed of his charge drove the post right through his stomach and he fell to the ground, writhing in pain. She felt a tap on her shoulder and an equally large demon grunted at her, "I buy."  
  
"I'm sorry?" She asked in bemusement. "Fight to the death here, not a shopping trip."  
  
He pointed to the post and Buffy realised that the fallen demon was now advertising the fact that trespassers would be sold as slaves. She'd stabbed him with one of Spike's idiot trespass signs.  
  
"He my enemy. My rival. I buy."  
  
Angel approached. "What's your offer?"  
  
"Me commander. You give. I withdraw."  
  
"How many do you command?"  
  
"A legion."  
  
"One hundred? Not enough. We kill you all."  
  
The large demon looked slyly at them.  
  
"Him four legions. You sell. I command them too. I withdraw all."  
  
Angel nodded.  
  
"He's yours."  
  
Buffy eyed the demon with deep suspicion.  
  
"If I see you or any of your legions, this will be you. Understand?"  
  
She tapped Spike's other sign. "Vandals will be sold as eunuchs."  
  
The demon winced and nodded. "I go." He agreed and left, dragging his purchase behind him.  
  
A call went up around the battlefield. Demons pulled their blows mid thrust and retreated back through a portal.  
  
"What in hell's happening?" Gunn asked.  
  
"Angel negotiated a deal with one of the commanders." One of the slayers answered.  
  
"My God! I think we might actually win tonight." Wesley said and then wished he hadn't. As he finished his sentence a dragon appeared from one of the portals, breathing fire before him.  
  
At the same moment a figure appeared from the house, garbed in black, with a bright halo of blonde hair.  
  
A whisper went up around the grounds and spread like wildfire. A refrain that passed from person to person. A name dropped from lips as they hurled themselves into battle.  
  
A slayer grinned, at her opponent; her joy could hardly be contained. She fought as though fresh to the fight. Her movements flowed with energy and power as she released her joy into the fight.  
  
"You cannot win demon."  
  
He grinned back. "What has changed, Little One?"  
  
"Spike has returned." She thrust with her sword and the demon collapsed.  
  
"Who is Spike?" He whispered.  
  
"Our leader." She replied to the dying demon and swung around to face her next opponent.  
  
Spike emerged from the house to see what all the noise was about and found himself confronted by a dragon the size of a normal house.  
  
"Bloody hell!"  
  
Angel spotted him and grinned. "Welcome home, childe."  
  
"You could have told me to bring my axe."  
  
"Here take mine." Angel threw it across to him.  
  
"Never taken on a dragon before. Come on, Mate. Show me what you've got."  
  
The dragon's great face turned towards him. It opened its jaws and let out a roar. Balls of flames billowed towards Spike. He rolled to one side but at the same time a gust of wind blew against the direction of the flames sending them back towards the dragon. Once they'd died down Spike leapt towards it and buried his axe in its neck. The dragon reared up and Spike was left dangling in the air, clinging grimly to his axe.  
  
Angel let out a snarl, picked up a sword and charged the dragon, hacking at its body. As it lowered its head Spike let go of the axe and dropped to the ground. He called for a weapon and was handed a short sword. As the reptilian face came towards him, its jaws wide and prepared to snap him in half, Spike danced gracefully to one side and bounded on to its snout, thrusting the sword into an eye. He gave a flying leap to land well clear, as the dragon roared and writhed in pain.  
  
Meanwhile, Angel had positioned himself beneath the dragon and as it sank to the ground, its own weight forced the sword deep into its chest. He dived out from under it leaving his sword behind but wasn't able to clear the dragon's body in time. Spike shouted his name, gripped him underneath the arms and tugged. Finally he was free.  
  
"Is it dead?" Angel asked.  
  
"Not yet. Mortally wounded I'd say."  
  
"That was exhilarating."  
  
"Next time I'm going to wake in the middle of a bloody battle, do me a favour and give a bloke some warning. I mean I'd just got up and was still rubbing sleep from my eyes, when that thing appeared in front of me."  
  
"Yeah, Ok. But it was fun wasn't it?"  
  
Spike looked at his face, glowing from the heat of battle.  
  
"Yeah. It was bloody good fun, Peaches. And not done yet by the looks of things."  
  
"You think this looks like a battle? Should have seen what we had an hour ago. Never mind, you caught the best bit."  
  
They swung back into the fight.  
  
Their enemies dwindled and they could feel the cold morning light approaching.  
  
"We have to go." Spike said.  
  
"I don't think our home would let us get burnt." Angel said looking around affectionately at contorted trees wrapped around the bodies of demons unlucky enough to be caught within their embrace.  
  
"Lets not test it today." Spike also looked around.  
  
Everywhere there were demon bodies being reclaimed by the earth. Moss grew over them, others disintegrated as they were eaten away by termites and other insects. Bodies were tangled and held in the undergrowth, clasped in the cracks of tree trunks, bound by root or pierced by branch.  
  
"Have we got a garden of Ents?" Spike asked, sounding almost hysterical.  
  
"Tolkien based his books solidly in old myths and legends. These could well be his Ents." Giles answered.  
  
"The Powers That Be enhanced the protective nature of Willow's spell."  
  
"Damn." Willow said. "And I thought it was all me."  
  
The portals finally closed and everyone retreated to the house.  
  
"I'm sorry. No furniture. A few blankets. The sheets can be used as bandages."  
  
"Everyone is so weary. I think we'll all be sleeping where we drop." Giles replied. "By the way, it's good to have you back but could you please stop doing this. Even I'm starting to have abandonment issues."  
  
The sheets were torn into strips and the uninjured began to tend to the wounded. Those who had died were laid out in honour. Their names were recorded and their exploits written, so that future generations would never forget the ones that gave their lives to take on hell.  
  
"We've lost all records of previous slayers." Giles said sadly. "Their deeds and bravery destroyed and lost forever. So we start again." He talked to everyone and wrote up their accounts in his neat flowing handwriting.  
  
Spike's eight slayers came across and stood silently before him. They were looking tired, bruised and bloodied.  
  
"Hey. You bints alright?" He asked in concern.  
  
"No." Kirsty replied. "Don't leave us again."  
  
"Wherever I am, I'm always with my girls. You know that. Mine, yeah?"  
  
"We looked after him. Whilst you were away."  
  
"Knew I could trust you."  
  
The day passed and Spike began to feel like he was holding audience as different people cautiously approached him. He made time for everyone who wanted to talk. When Willow and Buffy came forward he hugged each of them. But sounded slightly aggrieved as he said, "I still have the memories of what you did to me."  
  
"Yeah? " Buffy breathed in his ear. "Not all of them bad, I hope?"  
  
Willow grinned knowingly.  
  
"You are bad, slayer." Spike smiled slightly as he chastised her. "I take it that was a one off thing, just to get me here?"  
  
"I'm going back to Rome tomorrow. I want to see Dawn and try to pick up some sort of normal life again."  
  
"Yeah. I know. But if I'd remained human would you have stayed? Settled down with me, done the whole wife and kiddies thing?"  
  
"If you'd remained human, I swear it would have been you, Spike."  
  
He wasn't sure if he believed her or not but he decided to take it at face value.  
  
"Thanks Buffy. I had a great day."  
  
"Yeah. Me to. Anyway, I have to leave this place..." she frowned. "You know, you really need to name this house. I mean Spike and Angel's place is a bit long winded."  
  
"It is, isn't it?" Willow agreed. "Funny enough Xander said the same thing."  
  
"Hey, Peaches. They want us to name our home."  
  
Angel joined them, "I've never really thought about it. You know, it's just been home."  
  
"Xander actually emailed a suggestion. I thought it was quite sweet."  
  
"I find that a little difficult to believe. It'll be something like 'Deadboy's House'." Angel grouched.  
  
"No. It was 'Our Souls' Home'."  
  
Angel frowned.  
  
"Assholes Home?" He asked.  
  
"Oh and that looked so much better on the screen than it sounds out loud. He is so dead for that." Willow said blushing furiously.  
  
"Tell the whelp, good one. Gotta admit he got you there, Red." Spike grinned.  
  
"We'll think of a better name." She promised.  
  
"Anyway, we really have to go." She gave both vampires a hug.  
  
Buffy came forward and also hugged them.  
  
"Love you both." She said as she left.  
  
They walked towards the gate.  
  
"So Willow, can you tell yet? Am I really going to be pregnant?"  
  
Willow smiled. "Guarantee it, Sweetie."  
  
"Good. Because it's strange, but I'm already starting to envisage a cute little, blue-eyed, blonde haired boy or possibly a girl..."  
  
"Aren't you worried what Angel will say?"  
  
"He already has his son and it was this thing with Angel that made me realise. They need as many ties to this world as possible. We're not always going to be here for them, Willow. Now they'll both have family to care for and to care for them."  
  
-  
  
Spike could see Andrew skulking around not quite daring to approach.  
  
"Hey, whelp? What's new?"  
  
Andrew came forward.  
  
"Nothing really. I've been learning to speak Italian. I was thinking I might move out there. Giles has been teaching me, he thinks I could be an excellent scholar." All the time he spoke his eyes never left Spikes face and in the end his voice broke, as he could no longer keep up his stream of chatter.  
  
"I'm sorry, Spike." He bent his head.  
  
"Look. Some things are just meant to be, you probably had little more control of your actions than a puppet." He grimaced slightly at that analogy. "It's ok."  
  
"No, it's not. I'm ridiculous and stupid and an idiot and...no one else would have done anything that stupid. Just me."  
  
"Yeah, they would. It's the sort of thing I would do. It's curiosity - it's what keeps life interesting. We can't help it. Always seems to end in trouble."  
  
Andrew sniffed.  
  
"Go get some sleep. I saw you in battle. You did well."  
  
Andrew didn't know whether to smile or cry.  
  
Angel watched him discreetly and finally came forward, smiling at his new childe.  
  
"You ok?"  
  
"You know, it's a little overwhelming."  
  
"Are you hungry?"  
  
"Ravenous. You realise it's getting dark again. Another few hours and our army of starving troops are gonna begin to stir."  
  
"Uh huh. Come shopping with me? We'll go clear out Wal-Mart again."  
  
"Can't we just order take out?"  
  
"Of course. Although that means no cigarettes and no Cocoa Pops."  
  
"But I left nearly a whole box!"  
  
"Yeah. Very tasty they were too." Spike couldn't decide if he was kidding or not and finally gave a humph of disgust.  
  
"Is this why you turned me? You wanted someone to help carry the shopping?" He grumbled as they headed to the door.  
  
Angel grinned happily.  
  
"No. I turned you because you are my reward,"  
  
Spike looked at him and shook his head.  
  
"You poor sod. All those years and this is what you get. You've been done."  
  
"Did you see those final images, Spike?"  
  
"The white light? Yeah, I saw."  
  
"I don't think I could even consider making it there if you weren't by my side."  
  
"We might have a long way to go, Angel. And that path looked pretty bleak in places."  
  
"Not as bleak as where I've been."  
  
"You won through."  
  
"Just a battle. A small wound to the enemy, nothing fatal. Tomorrow they'll probably have all the cogs in their machine turning again."  
  
"Yeah, but we've created its counterpart here. We have our witch, our wise men, and our army. For the first time we can meet them and the playing field has been levelled."  
  
"I didn't think of that."  
  
"Will we make it?" Spike asked.  
  
"I don't know but I'm looking forward to trying. Thank you for making this choice, childe. For not leaving me alone."  
  
"You need me, Peaches. Who else dares to laugh at you?"  
  
"Or call me names?"  
  
"Question your judgement?"  
  
"Periodically torture me?"  
  
"Exactly. I keep life interesting for you."  
  
"And what do I do for you in return?" Angel wondered.  
  
"Don't you know?"  
  
Angel shook his head.  
  
"You bring me home when I'm lost. Vampire, ghost or human – always the same. It's not this place that's my home. It's you. Wherever I am, you draw me home."  
  
"Of course I do. I'm your Sire." Angel said proudly and dropped a quick affectionate kiss into his hair.  
  
Spike sighed, content to be home at last.  
  
THE END 


	12. Interlude Buffy's Gift

**_Author's Note:_**

This is an interlude between Buffy and William. It can be read by itself but actually falls in the middle of Chapter 11 of Love and Remembrance. It was written at the same time, but spoilt the flow of the main story and was deleted. However, with encouragement from the wonderful Chencen Yang I have decided to post it as a standalone episode.

**_Disclaimer_**

Nope still not mine: Joss's, M.E. etc.

**_Warning:_**

R for sexual content.

**_Summary:_**

Before her death Cordelia passed on her visions to Spike.Angel and Spike renewed their blood-bond. Spike sacrificed himselfandAngel felt him wink out of existence. However, Buffy is convinced he survived. She and Willow search for him, finally finding him in London but to their shock he's human and as he collapses on a London street they realise he's still having visions.

-

**Interlude - Buffy's Gift**

He felt a touch on his shoulder.

"Spike, are you ok?"

He looked up into concerned eyes and the sight of the girl filled him. She was cherries and peaches and clean air on a spring day.

But why did she call him Spike? It was entwined with the visions he had seen, it confused him.

Was he back in the physical world or still lost in the images of pain and death that filled his head? At any moment, something would leap out at her, eviscerate her, torture her, murder her. Like all the others he saw, cowering in alleyways or running through the night, panicked and terrified. He saw the places, where they fought and died with such clarity that he could probably have picked up enough clues to pinpoint the exact spot of their tortuous death. He saw monsters, gruesome to look upon and fatal to meet. He heard the screams of their victims, the overwhelming impression of evil haunting him into his waking hours.

Except sometimes he had that dream.

The dark-haired man who smiled at him and looked at him with softened eyes, an oasis of calm and a respite from the evil, tall, handsome, with a sense of power and controlled strength. Smiling at him saying,

"Welcome home, Spike."

"Why didn't you come home, Spike?"

The girl's voice intruded and jumbled jarringly with the voice of his dream. She seemed to be real.

"Name's William, not Spike." he rasped.

"Whatever. Look, let's get you inside and cleaned up, you're covered in blood. Then you can tell me exactly what you think you're doing here. You must have known how we'd feel. You could have let us know."

She was looking seriously annoyed. These fits always left him feeling disorientated but there was definitely something off-kilter here. And for once it wasn't him.

"Let you know what? Excuse me, but who the hell are you?"

Her brow furrowed.

"You don't know me?"

"Uh...No."

Buffy took in his obvious confusion and reassessed the situation. He was an adult human, he must have been given memories and an altered reality in the same way Dawn's sudden presence had. Obviously, he no longer remembered his previous life. He must think she was some sort of insane-o woman.

"Jeez, I'm sorry. You're identical to someone I used to know…it's uncanny."

"Yeah?" He gave a half-hearted shrug and put a hand to his nose, attempting to stymie the bleeding. "I've heard everyone has a double."

Buffy breathed again.

"Believe me, you're the image of him."

"This Spike?"

"Uh huh. Look you really need to clean up, you have blood dripping down your chin."

It was so familiar that she was almost tempted to chide him for his sloppy eating habits.

"Sorry. Nosebleed. Happens when I get these…"

"Visions? Yeah, I'd heard it affects hu…people that way."

"I was going to say fits. I hope they're not bloody visions, the world couldn't be that terrifying." He muttered.

Buffy looked at him, almost replied and then thought better of it, saying instead "Lean on me. I'll help you home."

His head was about to explode. This last one had left him more weak and confused than ever. The intensity remained with him and, even as he walked through that bright English morning, part of him was standing somewhere dark, waiting. He had an impression of turning cogs that sent worlds spinning and humming. The universe waited with baited breath as though the music of the spheres was reaching a new crescendo. Momentous and breath-taking, time and place converging. Hanging over it all was that clear voice. The dark voice that called him, even as it spoke a name that wasn't his: Spike.

The word was full of grief and anger. He was compelled to go to it, find the source of this disturbing emotion. William knew it was time. He was getting weaker, if he didn't go now he would die without ever finding the stranger who waited for him. He thought of the images he had seen and recognised the landmarks, after all, L.A. was unmistakeable. He would rest and recover, then book his flight to L.A. and find this man, this source of mystery. But first he had to discover what the girl knew of Spike. That she should turn up now, speaking a name which was the stuff of nightmares and dreams, was beyond coincidence. It came to him as she offered to take him home that maybe she was the only person who could.

Will accepted her proffered help, but tried to keep from weighing too heavily on her seemingly fragile form. They reached his home and he stumbled inside, collapsing on the couch, looking tired and ill.

"Do you need some water? Painkillers?"

"Yeah. Water, please. And could you pull the blinds? Sunlight makes my head worse." He reached inside his coat pocket for his tablets.

Buffy shut out the sunlight and brought the water. He knocked back a couple of the pills, made himself comfortable on the couch and shut his eyes.

"Do you need a medic?"

"Nah. I'll be fine." He lied.

"No, Sp…William, you're not fine. These visions are killing you. Is there anyone I should call…a relative or friend …or a girlfriend?"

"There's no one. I'm ok."

"But you're not, are you?"

He was too tired to argue. His head was killing him and his body was stiff with pain. He allowed each muscle to relax one by one, letting the tension melt away as he concentrated on the darkness behind his eyelids and let the painkillers work their magic. This had been a bad one.

He could hear the girl walking towards him, then soothing, gentle touches, as she wiped his face with a cloth soaked in warm water. She finished and moved away. Drowsiness overcame him and the next time he became aware of her, she was holding his hand.

His eyes flickered and she squeezed his hand.

"Hey? Are you ok?"

He tested for pain…a slight throbbing and tenderness behind his eyes. Maybe he could bear to open them a peep. Her face filled his vision.

"You are beautiful." He said softly.

They stared at each other, their silence pregnant with possibilities.

"So are you."

She leant forward and kissed him.

Just a whisper of a kiss, a breath against his skin, as delicate as butterfly wings fanning against his lips. Such an insubstantial thing. But pain disappeared as his bones turned to water.

"Who are you?" He breathed.

"Does it matter?" She asked and brought a hand to his cheek, softly running her fingers across the hollows of his face and down his neck.

So gentle. Like a wisp of silk drifting over him, but leaving a trail across his skin that burnt like fire. His breathing began to quicken. He was lost in her eyes, fascinated by her.

She kissed him again. A more solid presence. Her lips soft and sensuous. He felt as though he could breathe her in. Her small frame slid down and she slowly stretched out beside him, never breaking the kiss. It grew more demanding and he couldn't help responding, opening up to her, allowing her to softly tongue inside his mouth, exploring this new territory. He could feel her small hand drifted to the skin above the waist band. Her touch, her scent and the feeling that he could lose himself in her, sent quivers through his body.

He felt like he was in some weird dream. She released the button of his jeans and the pop as it came undone juddered through him. He looked down to see her small, feminine hand releasing the zipper notch by notch. God, what the hell was happening? She was acting as though he were an old familiar lover and, although alluring and erotic in its way, it made him incredibly uneasy.

"No."

She froze.

"What do you think you're doing?"

She gestured down at his half released zip as though that was all the explanation needed.

"No." He hastily tucked himself away.

"Huh?"

"I don't want this. It's not right."

"HUH?"

"I'm sorry. It's not you. It's me."

"Oh. Ok." Her mouth turned down slightly. "Aren't you attracted to me?"

Buffy could feel her lips trembling as one of the certainties of life came crashing down around her ears. The sun rose, the sea lapped the shore and Spike wanted her. Just a fact of life.

"Yes. No. Well the thing is…I'm more into men if you know what I mean…and look, are you always this…forward with strangers?"

She began to laugh.

"Ok. Right. You're into men and I'm too forward! Now tell me what's really wrong, Spike."

"This is the problem isn't it? You think I'm Spike. I'm not. I'm William."

"Ok. You're William. And you're attracted to men." She managed to keep her face serious this time. "So tell me, William. What makes you think you're attracted to men?"

"Do you have to sound so patronising?" He turned his head away. "Anyway, I don't know you well enough to discuss this with you."

"Yes, but if you were attracted to women instead of men then by now you would know me well enough to discuss why you're attracted to men…and that made more sense in my head."

"I can imagine. Worryingly for me I did manage to get the gist of it." He gave a slight grin. It made her want to reach out again.

"Tell me."

"No. It'll make me sound like a stupid wanker."

"I'm just some stranger, what does it matter how it sounds? So share."

"I suppose. Oh, sod it, why not." Heturned his headaway from her. "I havea dream. Had it for as long as I can remember.a man -tall, powerful, otherworldly. He turns to me and smiles, overwhelming me with love and need. I get this feeling emanating from him, we belong together. I've been searching for him ever since."

He waited for her to laugh again, but she didn't. Instead she took his hand.

"Tall? Dark? Face of an Angel?"

"No he hasn't got the face of a bloody angel…well not one of the little cherub things…more like one of the angel warriors, you know, like that one sent out to kill every male firstborn? That sort of face."

He looked down in embarrassment and wished he hadn't told her.

"It's ok, William. I understand. I used to have the same dream. Then I found out he needed something else."

"You know him? I'm sorry...I mean..."

"It's ok. But the dream doesn't mean you're gay. Love and sex isn't always the same thing, you're a man you should know these things." No bitterness towards Parker here. Nope. Absolutely not.

"Look. I have to go but I'll call back in an hour, if you don't mind? Just to see how you're doing. Then I won't disturb you again. I'm returning to the US later today."

"You're American?"

"Accent?"

"Yeah. Right. Sorry, been a bit out of it today."

"I'd noticed."

She turned to leave.

"Hey." He looked into her eyes once again. "If I were straight, I swear it would be you."

She smiled.

"Thanks."

-

"Willow!"

"Buff? Is everything ok?"

"Yes. No. He has no memory of us, he thinks he's gay, he's dying and he thinks I'm crazy slut girl! I can feellife slipping away from him and I…" Her face began to crumple.

"Oh Buffy!"

"I just expect him to be there for me but he's not and soon he'll die and there will be nothing left of him. It's not fair."

"I know, Sweetie. Things are like that sometimes." Willow replied softly.

"I watched him as he slept. He could have died in that room and who would even know? I didn't want him to slip away with nothing to show for his presence, it all seemed so purposeless. What was the point of bringing him back for such a short time? As I sat with him I had a revelation, I knew what I had to do, Willow. Humans is to survive. They have children and they survive. That's why he's been brought back as a human and that would be my gift to him, to put aside all the anger and bitterness, and truly forgive. I thought if we could…you know… get groiny, you would be able to make sure there was a child but…"tears filled her eyes, "but I couldn't even do that for him. He didn't want me."

"You want his baby?" Willow tried to cover her shocked surprise. "Ummm. Maybe he just found it all a bit sudden. I mean, big decision, Buff."

"He thinks he's gay!"

"And you think he's not?"

"Willow, it's Spike…"

"You have to see things from his point of view, maybe this gay thing is something real. I mean take me, all denial girl after Evil-vamp Willow. Maybe this is what he really is."

"He's just got himself all confused. He dreams of Angel and of love, he doesn't understand how it is with vampires, how it is with sire and offspring. Hell he doesn't even believe in vampires."

"Ok, I take your point. But do _we_ really know how it is with vampires? Yes, we assume Angel and Spike don't have sex because, well, you know Spike. He wouldn't have been able to resist embarrassing Angel with inappropriate bulletins on what they get up to. But supposing it's the norm amongst most vampires, I mean it might be just Angel's curse that stops them."

"All I know is that just for a minute, I had him there. He wanted me."

Willow looked at her distressed face and heavy tears, quivering at the end of dark, spiky lashes, and sighed. She couldn't refuse her friend.

"Ok, I'll help. You go and get showered and clean. I'll get a few ingredients to ensure fertility and then you go and seduce the hell out of him."

"Do you think I can?"

"This is Spike. Do you think you can?"

Her eyes darkened.

"Oh, yeah."

-

She tried the handle of the door. It opened. Her heart began to beat faster but she walked in. What was the worse that could happen? She could end up looking like an almighty idiot. She'd done that before and managed to survive.

"William? It's me."

"Yeah. Be down now. Make yourself at home."

She went into the room where she'd sat and watched him sleep and wondered if he'd ever wake again.

This time she took the time to look around. There was a photograph on the wall. A blue-eyed boy with his parents or maybe grandparents. She examined it more closely. The boy was grinning. She reached out, gently running a finger over the glass, wiping the dust away and highlighting the outline of his face.

Suddenly the enormity of what she was going to do struck her. Death is her gift. Yet here she was contemplating bringing life into the world. A child she would have to care for. Sleepless nights. Diapers. Baby sick on her clothes. A demanding, needy, noisy little person. Was she ready for that?

It was strange not being needed, no longer the Chosen One and now Dawn all grown up. As much as she loved her much vaunted freedom, she wanted to be needed. Now that the thought was in her head and she'd decided what to do, she realised it wasn't some noble self-sacrificing gesture or an act of forgiveness. As much as she wanted to do this for Spike, she wanted it for herself even more. She wanted a mischievous, demanding, needy, loving child. She wanted Spike's child. But first she needed to convince him he had his sexuality all confused. Or if Willow was right, then she had to get him all confused over his sexuality.

He walked through the door looking like sex on legs, scrubbed and clean, towelling his hair into soft spikes. His bloodshot eyes had cleared and were once again bright with life. But what made Buffy catch her breath was the way he was dressed. She suddenly began to doubt herself; this was so not Spike, in his sloppy jeans and worn black T-shirt. This was Will. He was stylish. His clothes were expensive and fitted. VERY fitted. Her eyes traced the ridges of his abs through the thin material of his tight top. Surely that was at least one size too small and his pants were possibly illegal.

It occurred to her that he was too meticulously groomed.

"I'm sorry, were you about to go out?"

"No." He looked at her in query. "You did say you'd be back. Would be a bit rude to disappear now."

Oh God, he'd got dressed like this for her! Those pants, the tight top were all for her. And he looked damned fine. Maybe she could do this after all. But suddenly it seemed too cold-blooded. This was William. She wanted to get to know him. Find out about him, his similarities to Spike and his differences.

"If you feel up to it perhaps we could go out, grab a coffee?" He was hesitating and her face began to fall. "Or tea?"

He smiled at her persistence.

"Sure. Why not?"

He'd put on the gear because he sensed he needed this girl and if he had to play on his likeness to this Spike then, needs must. So he dressed the way he imagined Spike might have. He must have been seductive to provoke such strong feelings in the dark-haired man and in this pretty little girl. Will could do seductive.

They wandered through Hyde Park and Buffy remembered the last time she'd been here, Spike had died in the conflagration and she'd travelled through Europe, ending up here, greedily consuming all she could of London, its streets, its life, its accents, imagining the human William taking a morning constitutional around the park, tipping his hat and speaking politely to acquaintances. She looked at the human William and swallowed loudly. Maybe it hadn't been a daydream but a premonition.

"So tell me about Spike." Will asked quietly, cocking his head slightly to one side.

"Spike? Uh ok. When I first saw him he had this whole bad boy thing going for him. He wasn't born bad; I guess you could say he fell in with the wrong crowd."

"Ah. Old story, the good boy who goes off the rails."

"That was, Spike. Way off the rails. Exuberant, joyful, always with the clever plans that he was too impatient to carry out."

"Then what?"

"Like you said, old story. Fell in love and changed himself to what he thought the girl needed."

"The redemptive power of love? Huh. So what next? Everyone had a nice cup of tea and lived happily ever after?"

"Well sort of, in the 'no not likely' kinda way." She gave a slight frown as she tried to think about things from Spike's point of view.

"When he became good, he regretted all the bad…very bad stuff he'd done and thought he'd never be good enough for the girl. So he laid down his life every night attempting to redeem himself, I guess. He died in a fire saving the…saving some people."

"Oh that's…well, tragic. You're the girl? Yeah, course you are. I'm sorry, you know, for bringing back bad memories."

"Don't be…somehow it's easier talking to you about this than it isto my own friends."

"Well, if you really don't mind, I do have a question."

Buffy nodded.

"How does the dark-haired man fit into all this? You said you knew him?"

"It's complicated. Yeah, I know people always say that. Ok. He once hung with the same bad crowd as Spike; they were friends, except closer…more like family. Then something happened, which forced him to turn his back on that life and those people. He ended up helping me and we fell in love."

"So why aren't you two lovebirds together?"

"Long, long story. I guess once he got the 'do good' bug, life with me wasn't enough. He had zeal…a passion; he needed to help people, needed to make up for his past. He thought life with me would hold him back. He needed to fulfil his potential."

"Oh. Bummer."

"Yeah, it really was. At the time I didn't understand why he was leaving. Guess I never really have. Until now. Anyway, we meet occasionally, have awkward silences, remember everything we once were and everything we could have been and realise that our time has passed and we're not even the same people anymore."

Will walked along in sympathetic silence, giving her time to collect her thoughts.

"Then there was Spike. I don't know how it happened really. I mean, him and Spike, they hated each other, fought over everything."

"Including you?"

"Well, just short of full scale nuclear explosions, but yeah."

"Homosocial."

"And I say; 'huh?'"

"When two men are attracted to each other, but conform to the social restraints placed on them, it emerges in other ways. Like fighting over a girl that the other man has, because subliminally he wants the bloke himself. Fighting and arguing are just flirting and shagging in a different language. You know, like Oliver Reed and Alan Bates? Homosocial, in the end it's all about passion."

He saw her face and realised that this theory wasn't very complimentary to her.

"There again that's probably a load of crock. I mean friends often have similar taste, it's what makes them friends to start with."

"Whatever. Anyway, something changed, they both seemed to wakeup and realise that they were on the same side and they could take up that old friendship again."

"That's not the whole story is it?"

Buffy remembered what Willow had said earlier and shrugged.

"Who really knows what goes on between two people?"

William seemed content with that answer but then said softly,

"So why do I dream about him?"

Buffy remained silent.

They reached a café, all leather couches and large glass windows.

"So I've told you about Spike. Are you going to tell me about yourself?"

She wanted to hear the comfort of that voice. It worked on her like salt on skin, leaving her raw and exposed, Spike's voice could always do that to her. Make her feel.

"What's to tell?"

"Family? Friends? Lovers? Job? Visions?"

"Family none. Friends a few close ones who are getting more and more frightened as they watch these fits take over my life. Job, freelance writer. Lovers, it's complicated but there's no-one at the moment. Visions? Guess you mean seizures. Had them all my life. Getting worse."

"And that's your life summed up in, let's see…" she made a pretence of glancing at her watch "…less than a minute."

"What can I say? I'm an uncomplicated kind of guy."

"So, no Mom and Dad?"

"Nah. Nothing tragic. I was born late in their life. They lived good healthy lives and died within a few months of each other."

"No brothers or sisters?"

"Nope. My mother was supposed be infertile so I was seen as something of a miracle."

"Huh. A miracle you're here? Whaddya know. Ok, a writer, what sort of stuff do you write?"

"Well I'm not exactly prolific but you know occasional articles and stories in magazines or papers. My parents left me a house and enough to get by on, so I never really had that driving need that most struggling writers have. I write mainly for my own pleasure. Anyway, what do you do?"

"Oh...I teach."

"Yeah. What do you teach?"

She thought for a moment.

"Life skills."

"Guess that'd be wasted on me."

Buffy looked at him questioningly.

"You said it yourself, these seizures are killing me."

Buffy shifted uncomfortably.

"So what next for you?" She asked. She needed to get him to Angel, so that they could make some decisions. She sipped her coffee, wondering how she could talk him into going to L.A.

"What's next? Actually, I was thinking of going to L.A. Hey, you alright?" He asked, as Buffy choked on her coffee.

"Have you ever tried to whistle down a cab?"

"Whistle?"

"Uh huh. You know how to whistle don't you, Sam? Just put your lips together and blow."

"Ok Bacall, I'm missing something here, aren't I?"

"Not interested in a cab? How about hitching? Have you ever tried hitching a lift? Just stick out your thumb and look sexy."

William looked at her as though she had gone insane.

"Stick out your thumb, William." She demanded, looking so serious that he slowly did as he was told.

She tossed her hair back, smiled and cocked her head, saying, "Hey, sexy stranger, you need a lift? I'm heading for L.A."

"What are you twittering on about, bint?"

He had never looked or sounded quite so much like Spike as he did at that moment; annoyed, confused and with a sense that he was somehow the butt of a joke.

"I'm asking you if you would like to join me and my friend in a supersonic jet heading for Los Angeles. We leave in about four hours."

"You're kidding?"

"Actually, no."

William believed her. He took a deep breath to calm himself as his world shifted and he sensed pieces clicking into place.

"Ok then."

"Ok?" Buffy grinned at him. "Ok."

"Four hours?"

"Give or take."

"I need to make some phone calls, pack a few things. Better pick up my passport and my credit card. I suppose that's really all I need."

He leant over and impulsively kissed her.

"Thanks…uh…are you going to tell me your name now."

"Spike used to call me Slayer."

"This Spike, bit of an odd bloke was he?"

"You've no idea."

"Come on, Bacall. Let's go."

They once again made their way through the park, teasing and laughing like old friends.

"Excuse me, I've just got to phone my friend, let her know we've got a guest for the return journey."

He nodded absently, his thoughts whirling. He couldn't believe he was doing this. Sure, he could be a bit impetuous but this was rash even for him. He was going to L.A. to pursue a dream, like so many others before him. Perhaps with even less chance of success than all the other starry-eyed hopefuls. However, his decision was made and he could have laughed at the simplicity and the rightness of it.

He pulled out his phone.

"Hey."

"Yeah, I'm ok but I had another one this morning."

"Nah, don't come over. Just ringing to tell you I'm leaving."

"Yeah, well. There are places I need to go and gotta face it, I'm running out of time."

"Hey. No. Don't mate. I swear I'm ok. Its just…now or never, you know how it is."

"Today."

"I know but…just tell the others will you?"

"Yeah, you too. Give my love to them."

He flicked the phone closed. That was the closest he could come to saying the word. The 'goodbye' word.

Buffy let him walk a little ahead so they could both have some privacy.

"Willow?"

"Buffy! Have you done the dirty yet?"

Buffy realised she'd been enjoying his company so much she'd forgotten all about her plans.

"He's so nice…I don't know…would it be wrong? I mean…I really like him…"

Willow began to laugh. "So you can't jump his bones because you really like him?"

"Even if he wasn't Spike, I'd still like him and having this ulterior motive…isn't it a bit like using him? I don't want to use him, Willow."

"Then don't. Forget about Spike and take William for what he is."

"I guess I already love him a little."

"In that case you have my blessing." Willow intoned seriously.

Buffy giggled. "Thanks Mom." Then realised what she had said. There was moment of shocked silence at the little joke. "I mean it, thanks, Willow. He wants to go to L.A. and I've offered to take him back with us. Can you do something to shield him, you know, from mega-curious eyes."

"Not a problem, Sweetie, I've been doing it since he first collapsed in the street."

"We'll leave about five?"

"I'll get everything ready. I'm looking forward to meeting him."

"Ok. See you later."

She caught up to where William was waiting and tucked her hand into his arm.

"So, William. Tell me more about your other lovers."

"My _other _lovers? Got a feeling they were straightforward compared to you."

"Me? I'm uncomplicated to the point of simple," she fluttered her eyelashes in faux innocence, "or so I've been told…well, the simple part anyway!"

He smiled, feeling unfettered and giddy with the sense of freedom.

"You, Bacall, have secrets within secrets. So tell me."

"I'll tell you one of them and, believe me, I'm not used to being this honest." She looked suddenly awkward and shy. "I like you, William and I would like to make love to you."

He looked once more into those wide serious eyes and felt his heart lurch. For some reason this woman moved him, from the moment he'd seen her he felt some unfamiliar passion and tenderness stirring.

"I think this might be a day of firsts." He whispered huskily.

The smouldering look in his eyes was all the reassurance she needed.

They held hands as they walked back to his place, exchanging small caresses between their linked fingers.

"What made you change your mind?" She asked tentatively.

"Not exactly changed my mind, just managed to let my prejudices go and admit I'm attracted to you. Don't really need to tell you that though, think it stood out a mile."

She remembered her hand on his crotch.

"A mile? Slight exaggeration there, Will."

"Hush, bint. Don't tease, not if you want me to last until we get home."

"Why, William!" Again that innocent look. "I mean, what are you going to do, throw me down in the middle of the park? Or find some convenient little copse, like that one over there and…"

"Oh bloody hell!"

He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her into the copse of trees she'd so conveniently pointed out. She was laughing and breathless and pressed tightly against his body.

"I've never…" He pulled back slightly.

"Don't worry, I'll be gentle." She teased and then looking into those vulnerable eyes her tone changed.

"I won't hurt you, William. Promise."

He smiled gently and touched her with all the reverence and wonder of a supplicant reaching out to a saint.

She drew him back to her arms and pressed her mouth softly to his. Again, he found himself falling under the spell of those sensual butterfly kisses so different to the rough demanding mouths he was accustomed to. The contrast of her smooth skin and tender body, unfamiliar and intriguing, demanded further exploration with hands and lips.

She gave a soft, breathy moan and the realisation that those noises were for him, emboldened him further. He traced her profile and then let his hands run down the thin material of her top, skimming lightly over her body. Even that feathery touch brought a gasp to her throat.

His timidity was so different to all the other men she'd known, it was alluring and incredibly arousing. There was no confusion in her head as she looked into those long-lashed eyes, there was no doubt that she was with Will, and she was his first experience of a woman. All the ambiguousness and confusion that muddied her feelings for Spike melted away as she looked at Will. Suddenly she wanted to do this properly, not just a quick fumble in a public place. After this, she would be Buffy the Mom. It raised the act itself almost to the spiritual, rather than physical.

"Will, we'd better save this for your place. I mean, I know we're leaving the country, but really don't think public indecency charges would impress my friends back home."

He looked back, his hair was wild and his eyes were almost blank with lust.

She was nearly tempted…but no. She tugged on his hand.

"Come on, Will. Home. Now."

Slowly he nodded and walked beside her in silence, until he finally unlocked the front door and closed it securely behind them.

Buffy found herself pressed against the door, his body plastered against hers. She could feel the intensity of his need. Her mouth opened to him, he explored it, sucking her tongue, tasting the bitter coffee and the underlying sweetness of her breath.

One hand went to her tiny waist, slipping under her clothes to feel the warmth of her skin, moving silkily over her body, intrigued by her femininity, wanting to discover more. He tentatively caressed a breast, feeling the softness and the way it fitted so perfectly in his hand. She rubbed her body seductively against his, drawing forth harsh, breathy gasps.

"Show me." He demanded. "Teach me. Want to give you everything you need."

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak, she allowed herself to be led upstairs.

He pulled his top off and her hands traced the fine lines of his torso. He was slim but muscular, his skin lightly tanned. She revelled in his similarities and differences to Spike, as she breathed in his warm, musky smell. Then she lifted her own top off.

His body was taut with a desire he barely knew how to satisfy with that unfamiliar body.

She slipped off her shoes and began to unbutton her trousers, shimmying slightly to remove them.

"Come here, Will."

He moved towards her, each step heavy with implication, it almost unnerved him.

"Take off your shoes and socks."

He kicked off his shoes and nervously pulled at his socks.

"Unbutton your pants."

Again he obeyed.

"Now undo your zip…slowly."

He suddenly realised that he knew this game, had played it many times.

Notch by notch, he teased out his gradual release. Her eyes never left his until he looked down and she followed his gaze. Her breathing lurched, but somehow she managed to stop herself from just reaching out and taking. This was William. She must keep calm and lead him gently.

"Take them off, Will, and come to the bed."

His movements were slow and seductive and his pants pooled at his.

"Can I touch you?" His voice was lust-rough.

She nodded.

He smiled and tenderly laid her down, running his hand over smooth plains and soft curves, kissing and tasting as he went, until her body was shivering into sweet caresses, aching towards his touch. She moaned softly and began guiding his hands, teaching him how her body liked to be played. He lifted his head to watch her body as it trembled to his touch, quivering like guitar strings to the stroke of his fingers. He listened to the beat of her breath and rhythm of her sighs, so perfectly attuned. It was the pure music of passion.

She looked so wanton, her eyes dark and her skin flushed and hot to his touch, as though her body was afire. She pulled him close and he was swallowed by her warmth. The sensation was unbelievable. He groaned in wonder, his eyes closing in pleasure.

"That's so good. Beautiful. You are beautiful."

He moved against her and her breathing became ragged, as she finally gained what her body had been craving since their first kiss that morning.

Reaching out, she wrapped him in her arms, drifting in the eroticism of flexing, writhing muscles. He felt so good. She dragged her hands up his chest, becoming momentarily absorbed by the miraculous beat of his heart. She remembered how Spike enjoyed being touched and ever restless fingers began moving, trying to make it feel as good for him as it did for her.

His eyes, those lustful voyeurs, dilated to black.

Small hands dropped to wrists that quivered with the effort of supporting hard masculine flesh, as he released all his passion and need into her delicate looking body. It felt so good. Her breathy little moans turned into harsh cries that kept time with his thrusts. It was amazing. It made him feel strong and powerful.

Suddenly she was biting her lip and digging in painfully with her fingers. It felt almost as if her body was fighting his touch. She writhed beneath, blindly clutching and crushing, as her body bowed and arched and clenched fiercely around him.

It was incredible. Low guttural sounds issued from his mouth as he stifled the urge just to howl his completion.

Then time slowed, through golden silence they held together, as close as two people could get. Lost to the moment and abandoned to their separate pleasure, until the last spasms passed through their bodies.

Exhausted, he fell against her and closed his eyes.

"I've reconsidered my position…I think maybe I'm straight after all."

She smiled gently and stroked his hair.

"You know, I really do love you, Will."

His eyes were closed and he was on the cusp of sleep as he whispered, "Love you too, Buff."

And those few words melted her to the very soul. Even in this life he had some residual memory of her burnt into his unconscious mind.

She held him close and wondered if she could bear to let him go. This man she could have loved for an eternity. Why should she return him to Angel? But he was dying and whatever she chose to do, he would never be hers. All she had were these few precious hours.

She held him closer still.

-

"I've changed my mind." He told the two girls. "I don't want to find this man. I want to stay with you."

He turned to Buffy.

"I've thought about it and that's what I want to do."

"I want you to stay with me too, Will. But you know you're never gonna be happy until you've found him and resolved these feelings."

"Is that a 'no'? Because in that case I'm not getting on the plane."

He sounded like the old Spike, petulant and stubborn. Buffy rolled her eyes; they didn't have time for this.

Willow caught her thought.

"On the plane, William." She commanded and coerced his legs into movement.

He turned furious eyes to the red-haired girl.

"I don't know what you're doing, but its bloody cheating and it's called kidnap."

He took a breath to shout for help and found that no sound came forth. He turned red with anger his whole body quivering in rage.

"Calm down. We're not going to hurt you but you have to see this man from your dreams, you know it really."

He finally nodded and indicated that he wasn't going to do resist anymore. He flung himself into a seat.

"Don't ever do that to me again."

His words were cold and dangerous.

"I'm sorry, but you have the visions, you know what a dangerous, violent world it is and you were endangering us. Did you want to see all hell raised against us?"

He finally shook his head.

"Look you're exhausted. This trip won't take too long and it will still be daylight when we arrive, what with the speed of the plane and the time zones, so why don't you try to grab a little shuteye now?"

He thought there was no way he could fall asleep, there was too much to consider, but almost immediately his eyes began to close and if Willow had anything to do with it she wasn't saying.

"You too, Buff. You stayed awake all last night; it's not good for you, even with your slayer stamina."

"Already ahead of you, Wills." She replied, letting her eyes droop and holding one hand protectively over her stomach. She dreamt of hugs and little hands, whoops and calls that echoed through the trees, happy laughter and a warm face pressed close to hers. When she awoke she had tears crusted in the corner of her eyes.

-

The cab dropped them off at a set of large imposing gates set into a blank brick wall. William looked nervously at the two girls. Buffy smiled at him but he could detect a trace of wetness in her eyes.

"This is it." Willow smiled and placed a hand to the gate. It swung open to her touch.

"He's there?"

Willow eyes became unfocused and then she nodded.

Buffy hugged him and then stepped away with a sad smile. She hoped she was done with hard choices and sacrifice.

He picked up his bag, squared his shoulders and followed the tangled driveway. The air here tasted sweet and the garden seemed to murmur to him, welcoming words that were just beyond his range of hearing. Leaves and twigs brushed against him, clinging as though they would never let go of him again. Trees moved their branches, allowing welcoming sunshine to follow him, so as he walked he was permanently haloed in the last of the soft, evening light. The girls had been right; this was where he needed to be.

Trancelike, he stood before a heavy wooden door. He put a hand to it and it swung open, revealing a large hall with a staircase rising in front of him. He moved forward, dropped his bag and stood gazing up the stairs. Somehow he knew that was where _he_ was.

His vision came back to him, together with that sense of anticipation and a world that held its breath.

A slight movement and a large figure emerging from the gloom. Will dropped his eyes, lost in confusion at the emotion that was swelling and breaking around him.

"What are you doing in my house?" The voice demanded. It was the voice in his dreams and it pierced him like a knife.

He raised his eyes and the man seemed to freeze.

"I'm sorry. These two bints more or less kidnapped me. They said this is where I needed to be. Do you think maybe they were lunatics?"

"Spike?"

And there was that name and every emotional nuance and undertone he'd ever imagined was there in that word.

"Yeah. They kept calling me that. Name's Will." He replied with a smile, his heart singing a tale of home.


End file.
